


The Hoper of Far-flung Hopes

by MagicPoet22



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Dark Doctor (Doctor Who), Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Family, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 04:38:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 38,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17419226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicPoet22/pseuds/MagicPoet22
Summary: The Doctor and co travel back to the Library, and snippets of the Doctor's past begin to emerge. As the fam learn that the Doctor isn't all sunshine and rainbows, a threat from across the universe forces the Doctor to step up and reveal who she truly is.Eventual Yaz/13 with a lot of fluff, angst, and general family dynamic.  Slow burn. Potential violence and substantial threat. Set after 'Resolution'.(Basically Yaz has to deal with her gay feelings while the fam attempt to understand a much darker side of the Doctor - will be a complete story with a mixture of old and new alien encounters).





	1. The Library

**Author's Note:**

> So I really like 13 and sometimes she suffers from the writing choices. I've been a big ol fan of Doctor Who since the 2005 reboot - though I have watched the Classic Series - so I've incorporated old quotes into this work as a throw-back. I really like Yaz and 13's dynamic as well as Graham and Ryan's character development, so I've tried to include it. Also we need Dark 13 so that's what I trying to do.  
> This is my first fic that I've been brave enough to publish, so feed-back of any kind if really appreciated <3  
> This will also have a developed story, I hope.

Chapter One - The Library:  
“Welcome to the biggest library in the universe!” the Doctor exclaimed excitedly, throwing open the TARDIS doors and flourishing her hands at what lay before them.   
“A library? Really?” Ryan said, clearly unimpressed.  
“Grow up, you miserable old git,” Graham said, pushing past him playfully to stand next to the Doctor. He took a deep breath, and sighed.  
“Ah, smell that air!” he said contently.  
“I have. Smells like books,” Ryan said dryly, reluctantly following Graham's footsteps out the door.  
“I’m surprised you recognise good old book smell, considering you haven't opened one for years,” Graham said lightly.   
Yaz, who followed Ryan out eagerly, let out a short laugh, which she abruptly halted when she saw the sour expression he was holding.  
“I just thought,” Ryan huffed, “That given all of space and time, we would have gone somewhere cooler, that's all.”   
“This is cool,” Yaz said, “Besides, it was Graham's turn to pick somewhere. We've already had our turns.”   
“Yeah, and mine was way more interesting!” Ryan argued.  
“Biggest theme park in the universe? What are you, twelve?” Yaz scoffed.   
“My stomach is still turning from those roller coasters,” Graham shuddered.   
The Doctor, meanwhile, had tuned out as her companions bickered amongst themselves. She was regarding the view with a pang of sadness; the last she had been here, she had a different face, and a different companion by her side. When Graham had asked about going to an inter-galactic library, she could have taken them anywhere. They never would have known. And yet she couldn't resist the looks on their faces when she mentioned this place - that was an ego boost of hers; watching them all get so excited (with the obvious exception of Ryan) whenever she divulged some of her extensive knowledge was nothing short of wonderful for her.  
But standing there now, at the death place of River Song and the memories of Donna fleeting in and out of the arch ways of the library, she was starting to have second thoughts.   
Sighing, she tucked her hands in her pockets. That was a different time, and she was a different person - new friends found, and lost. New faces recycled, old enemies interfering. Times change. There was little point dwelling in memories of Donna and River Song when she had her new friends to guide. Still, that nagging twinge of sadness still pecked at the back of her mind.   
“You been here before, Doc? Reckon you can show us around?” Graham said, dragging her out of her moment of reflection.   
“Oh!” the Doctor said brightly, “Yes! Of course! And yes - long time ago now - was very different woman - or man I guess - but in relation to the time we're in right now, I was literally only here yesterday.”   
That was a peculiar thought. Donna had been wandering around here yesterday. And River had died yesterday. And because of the events that happened yesterday, the system was still rebooting, people were still being transported off planet. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all, to go adventuring so close to her old timeline.   
“You alright, Doctor?” Yaz asked with uncertainty, when the Doctor suddenly stopped rambling.  
“Me? Yes! I'm always alright, me!” she said brightly. 

“Is alright special Time Lord Code for really not alright at all?”  
“Why?”   
“Because I'm alright, too.”

“Anyway,” the Doctor said, shaking her head, “Where to, gang? Anything you wanna look at in particular?”   
“I can honestly say, I've absolutely no idea!” Graham declared, but he sounded happy saying it.  
The Doctor grinned, before heading off in the first direction that took her fancy.   
“This place is huge,” Ryan exclaimed, gazing round with eyes the size of saucers.   
“Impressed now, are we?” Yaz teased him, nudging him lightly.  
Ryan, whose mouth had been hanging open in wonder, snapped it shut abruptly and shot her a glowering look.  
“I said it was huge, that's all. There's still nothing exciting about a bunch of dusty old books,” he said defensibly.   
“Oh, it's not all books, though,” the Doctor piped up, “C.A.L. has all sorts - electronic databases, audio description, video recordings -” the Doctor stopped suddenly when they rounded the corner and came face to face with a familiar statue. 

“Donna Noble has left the library. Donna Noble has been saved.”

“What is that?” Yaz asked, instinctively standing behind the Doctor.   
“That's...it's for information. Don't worry, they're not dangerous,” the Doctor said, doing an impressive job of pretending she wasn't horribly shaken by what lay before her.   
She was staring into the face of Donna Noble. C.A.L had clearly made a copy of her and hadn't yet erased it, despite Donna's freedom from the Library. The Doctor swallowed, before taking a deep breath.   
“So!” she said brightly, “Anything you want to ask it?”   
“How does it work? And why does it look so...human?” Graham asked, squinting at it as though he couldn't properly see it.   
The Doctor winced slightly.   
“It...sort of makes copies of people,” she said, deciding to tell the truth, “And it works by just talking to it. Go on, give it a go!”  
“So it's like Alexa?” Ryan said.  
“Sure,” the Doctor said flatly. She had encountered a small Alexa robot that time in Yaz's flat, and the thing bamboozled her to no end.   
“Wait, did you say it makes copies of people?” Yaz said, frowning.   
“Yes,” the Doctor stressed.   
“So that face belongs to an actual person?” Ryan said, his mouth hanging open.  
“For goodness sake!” the Doctor exclaimed, “All of space and time recorded in a single place and you’re busy focusing on the nicesties!”  
The other three were somewhat taken-a-back by her frustration. The Doctor sighed heavily, pressing a finger to her temple.  
“...Right,” Graham said, “Random fountain of knowledge statue with an actual person for a face. Seems fair.”  
“Just ask a question,” the Doctor said tensely. It was taking most of her willpower not to turn and run a mile, in true Doctor style, because seeing that thing with her face and her voice was nothing short of insulting.  
“Okay,” Yaz said, stepping up to the challenge and clearly sensing that all was not well with the Doctor.  
“Excuse me?” Yaz started cautiously, as the statue blinked at them, “What can you tell me about Ernest Hemingway?”  
“Hemingway? You kidding?” Ryan scoffed.  
“I’m reading 'A Farewell to Arms' so it’s the first thing that popped into my head!” Yaz hissed.  
“Hemingway, Ernest,” the statue said coolly, “There are exactly 5,704 topics under that name, and a further 4, 578, 657 sub topics. Please narrow down your search.”  
“Blimey,” Graham said, scratching his head.   
“There’s more than one Ernest Hemingway?” Ryan said.  
“Well, all of space and time, as the Doctor said,” Yaz said briskly, “I’ll try this: Ernest Hemingway, American author. Twentieth century. Earth.”  
As the Donna statue offered new information following Yaz’s search, the Doctor was having a hard time keeping her emotions in check. It had her exact voice, though it was more cold and aloof, and lacked her whip-smart cheek. But it was still her, her best friend, and her biggest regret. She would have to make sure C.A.L erased her to spare any of her future regenerations from this. It was like a smack in the face.

“I’ll smack you so hard you’ll regenerate.”

Why now, of all times? Remembering one lost friend was hard enough.   
“Okay, that is pretty cool. I admit it,” Ryan said, jarring the Doctor out of her thoughts.  
“Right?” Yaz beamed, “It’s incredible! Wish I had this when I was sitting my English A Level.”  
The Doctor felt a surprise smile tugging at the sides of her mouth. Seeing Yaz happy always seemed to cheer her up, for some reason.  
“Lemme try,” Ryan said.  
“Don’t ask anything stupid,” Graham said.   
“Thanks, Gramps,” Ryan replied sarcastically, before clearing his throat, “Um...tell me everything about Assassin’s Creed.”  
Before the Donna-statue could begin reeling off information, the Doctor interjected.  
“Unless you want spoilers for the next thirty-three installments, I’d stop there, Ryan.”  
Alarmed, Ryan quickly ordered the thing to be quiet.   
“Thirty-three more games? That’s what you said?” Ryan asked, once his panic subsided.   
“Yep,” the Doctor nodded, “Those games go well into the twenty-first century. Very popular too. Had a bit of a dip in the 2040s, but picked up again soon after with a great installment featuring feudal Japan. Massive shock ending, mind, it all focused on -”  
“Stop!” Ryan said, putting his hands over his ears.  
“I highly doubt you’ll still be into that crap at pushing 40, lad,” Graham laughed.   
“Still,” Yaz winked, “Spoilers.”

“Hush, now. Spoilers.”

The Doctor wished she had never set foot in this library. The first time, and this time. And there was no way she’d ever be back.  
“Can I ask her about me?” Graham asked.   
“Absolutely not,” the Doctor said, shaking her head.   
“Aw, come on, Doc!” Graham said, “It would be fun! Like googling yourself!”  
“You haven’t actually done that, have you?” Ryan spluttered.  
“No one is googling themselves. Or each other. Got that? If you go snooping into your own histories, you might end up finding out everything. If you get married, if you have kids - how and when you die. This is the future, after all. All three of you are long dead,” the Doctor said bitterly.   
“Oh, that's a cheerful thought,” Graham muttered.   
“Then how about asking it about Gran?” Ryan suggested, “Would be interesting to see if she’s recorded in here.”  
The Doctor paused in thought. She figured it would be alright, considering Grace had already lived her life and passed away. When she gave a nod, Graham stepped forward.  
“Tell me, do you know anything about Grace O’Brien? From Earth. Born 5th July, 1960.”  
“Grace O’Brien. Chemotherapy nurse. Born in the English city of Sheffield, Earth. Died 18th September, 2018. Cause of death: defending the Earth.”  
A strange silence followed the statue’s crisp words. Yaz had a small smile on her face, while Ryan was looking starry eyed. Graham, on the other hand, was holding a queer expression caught halfway between pride and grief.   
“‘Defending the Earth’. Not a bad legacy,” Ryan said softly.   
“And to think that she’s immortalised here, thousands of years in the future, on another planet altogether…” Yaz said, her amazement causing her to trail off.   
Graham swallowed thickly, blinking hard.  
“Yeah. This ain’t a bad legacy,” he agreed, his voice tight.  
“She deserves it,” the Doctor said gently, “And more.”  
Graham cleared his throat, rubbing his eyes.  
“Too right,” he sniffed, “What about you, Doc? Wanna ask anything?”  
“Ah,” the Doctor grinned, “I already know everything. Should be a library in my own right. A walking library - oh! A mobile library!”  
“I can absolutely guarantee that you have never been and never will be a mobile library,” Yaz laughed.  
“You never know! Regeneration is a lottery, I’ve always said,” the Doctor winked.  
“Well, we can always find out!” Ryan said cheerfully, “Tell us about the Doctor!”  
“The Doctor. Species: Time Lord. Last of. There are 67, 723, 401 entries under this name. Please narrow down your search,” the statue replied crisply.   
“I think not,” the Doctor said testily, “We’d be here forever. Well not forever forever, but I am a good 2000 years old so there’s a whole lot to wade through and there’s far more interesting things here than an old relic like me, and -”  
“Last of?” Yaz interrupted, the shock in her voice making the air ring with tension.   
Another silence took hold, but it wasn’t the calm, comfortable and appreciative silence Grace left behind. It was heavy, and ugly, and the Doctor did not like it one bit.  
“Yeah,” she said lightly, as if it was the most common thing in the world, “I did tell you that I’d lost my family a long time ago, remember, the first time we met? Right after the funeral, and Ryan was extra upset because his dad -”  
“You said you’d lost your family. You never said you’d lost your whole species,” Graham cut across her, clearly sensing that she was trying to change the subject.   
The Doctor swallowed uncomfortably.  
“Well it never came up,” she said airily, “And I often think history is wrong, on that count. Some Time Lord called the Master keeps cropping up, even though I’m meant to be the last. Stealing my thunder. Met myself a few times too - that was a weird afternoon - so I’m not really the last one, just sort of. I like to think so, anyway. Besides, me and the rest of me - you know what I mean - we went back and sort of saved them. But I can't ever see them so...But that’s not important - come on! There’s still so much we have to look at!”  
And with that, she bounded with impressive alacrity, hoping they would follow and say nothing more about it. She was wrong.  
“But how did that happen, Doc?” Graham said, clearly alarmed. All three of them had to increase their pace to keep up with her.   
The Doctor pressed her lips together.  
“Doesn't matter. Seriously now, come on! There's an amazing feature on the talking dinosaurs of the Lost Moon of Poosh - though it's not lost now I don't think, but that always confuses me - and they have a special feature on what exactly wiped out the dinosaurs on your planet - though, it turns out, some of them to popped back out into space and caught a ride and went to Poosh to colonise - but that's not the good bit! The good bit -”   
‘Doctor,” Yaz cut across her firmly, her voice slightly raised, “We don't care about space dinosaurs. That sounds ridiculous anyway - dinosaurs on a spaceship is the weirdest thing I've ever heard.”  
“Speak for yourself. Sounds pretty interesting to me,” Ryan said.   
“Oh, now the big space library is interesting,” Yaz said exasperatedly, shooting him a cold look.  
“Come on, Yaz!” Ryan exclaimed, “Dinosaurs in space! That's every kid's dream!”   
“Not mine it wasn't,” Yaz said, folding her arms.  
Ryan rolled his eyes.   
“Yeah, but you always were a bit of a stick in the mud. I think it sounds awesome,” Ryan retorted. Before Yaz could argue back, outraged, Graham took control.  
“What I think Yaz is trying to say, Doc,” Graham sighed, “Is that we'd rather know about you and your history next to some space dinosaurs.”   
The Doctor didn't make eye contact.   
“There's not much to know,” she mumbled.   
“2000 years old and not much to know? You're having a laugh,” Ryan scoffed.  
“We just want to know what happened - to your people, that is. You talk and talk so much but you never actually say anything,” Yaz interjected.   
“Why'd you wanna know that?” the Doctor said thickly.   
Yaz blinked at her.   
“I dunno - maybe it's because you're this complete enigma shrouded in mystery who has whisked us all away on some crazy adventures without never actually telling us who you are or how you got here?” she said.   
“I'm the Doctor,” the doctor said stiffly, “And if you'd rather not be whisked about, I'll take you home.”   
Yaz sighed.   
“I didn't mean that,” she said, gentler, “I meant that - well, we've never met an alien before. And when an alien drops into casual conversation that her whole race is gone, it's natural we'd be interested as to why.”   
“You humans,” the Doctor found herself scoffing, “Why is it that you're all always interested in tragedy? You watch it on TV, read it with enthusiasm in the news - it's something I'll never understand.”   
“What tragedy?” Yaz stressed, “And don't dump us with all the other humans. We've proven time and time again that we're not like that.” 

“Don't you dare lump me in with the other little humans that you think are so tiny and silly and predictable.”

“I'm sorry,” the Doctor said, half apologising to Yaz and half apologising to someone else, “I didn't mean it like that.”   
Yaz sighed, and lowered her voice again.   
“What happened, Doctor?” she asked softly.   
“There was a war,” the Doctor said, without passion or inflection. 

“There was a war. A time war. The last Great Time War. My people fought a race called the Daleks, for the sake of all creation. And they lost - we lost. Everyone lost. They're all gone, now. My family, my friends, even that sky.”

“Oh, you should have seen it. That old planet,” the Doctor said, under her breath.   
“What was that?” Graham asked.   
“Oh, nothing,” the Doctor said briskly, “Just reminiscing. But...yes - there was a war. We called it the Time War and - well, I said it best once before - everyone lost.”   
“So your people…” Yaz said, piecing together the information in her mind.  
“Gone,” the Doctor said, her voice low, “Still! Time moves on. Good old reliable time, always ticking forward. Well, for the most part.”   
“But what exactly is a Time War? And who were your people fighting against?” Ryan asked.   
“That's not important,” the Doctor said, desperately wanting to change the subject.   
“Well if you're not feeling like looking backwards, we can always nip and ask old stone face back there,” Graham said casually.   
“No!” the Doctor suddenly boomed, her voice echoing in the space.   
Graham, Yaz and Ryan all gaped at her, quite shocked and a tiny bit scared. They had never been on the receiving end of the Doctor's raised voice before.  
“No,” the Doctor repeated, more calmly, “Trust me, it isn’t important. There’s loads to see here, and that war isn’t one of them.”   
“Right. Sorry,” Graham mumbled, feeling slightly awkward; he had clearly hit a nerve.   
The Doctor let out a low sigh, before managing a smile.  
“Okay! Come on then, gang - like I said, loads to see!”   
They didn’t follow her with as much enthusiasm as before. All three of them could tell that she was hiding something - even Ryan, who often missed the most obvious of things - but they didn’t know how to bring about asking her without making her angry or tense.  
“Guess it’s a lost cause,” Yaz said aloud, voicing what Graham and Ryan were both thinking.  
The Doctor pretended not to hear.   
As they rounded the corner, they were stopped by a haggard looking, balding man.  
“Oh,” he moaned dejected when he saw them, “Don’t tell me you’re looking to get off-planet, too?”  
“Lux! Strackman Lux!” the Doctor exclaimed joyfully.  
Strackman looked at her blankly, before narrowing his eyes.  
“Have we met? You seem sort of familiar,” he said, “then again, I’ve met 4022 people today. And half of them are looking to sue - honestly, it’s not my fault this place was invaded by flesh eating shadows, was it?”  
“Certainly not,” the Doctor agreed, “And we have met. Well, we haven’t - I mean, we have, but that was a long time ago. For me, anyway! For you, it was only yesterday! How mad it that?!”  
Strackman blinked at her several times in disbelief.  
“Right,” he said skeptically, deciding she must be deranged, “Well if you’re not looking to sue me or to get off-planet, then get out of my way. I’m a busy man, and my team leader has gone walkabouts.”  
With that, he pushed past the Doctor and bustled off, looking increasingly stressed.   
“What was that all about?” Ryan said gormlessly.   
“Long story short,” the Doctor said, “Another me was here yesterday. And the library was invaded by - as he said - flesh eating shadows, formally known as the Vashta Nerada. I got caught up in all the action, saved a supercomputer slash young girl and managed to secure the people that were lost. Was one heck of a day!”   
“Wow,” Yaz breathed, her eyes wide.   
“You get around a lot,” Graham said.   
“Sure do!” the Doctor beamed, “It was a difficult mission though, to tell you the truth. Took a toll. Donna always said that she -”   
The Doctor stopped talking abruptly, her mouth pressed in a thin line.   
“Donna? Who's Donna?” Graham asked, clearly not sensing the gravity of the situation. 

“For one moment - for one, shining moment, she was the most important woman in the whole wide universe.”

“She's no one,” the Doctor said flatly, “I mean, that's not quite right. She was my best friend. Always knew what was best for silly old me.”  
The Doctor offered a goofy smile, but they all saw through it.   
“What happened to her?” Yaz asked.   
The Doctor looked away, suddenly fascinated with the lining of her coat.   
“She became someone she wasn't supposed to be,” the Doctor said distractedly, “Saved the universe, but at a price. She forgot me. Forgot everything. And if she ever remembers me, her mind will burn and she will die, so - can't go popping round for tea or anything!”   
There is was again - that goofy, reassuring smile that barely disguised the profound sadness behind her eyes.   
“Oh...that's - that's awful, Doctor,” Yaz murmured, thoroughly wishing that she hadn't asked.   
The Doctor shrugged.  
“Still - we had the best of times,” the Doctor said airily, “And her not remembering me doesn't erase that.”   
“Was she a human, like us?” Graham asked.   
The Doctor smiled, and nodded.   
“Yeah. She was much more than that, though,” she said, “Never failed to call me out on my nonsense and put me in my place. And in the end, she was even part Time Lord. But that's a very long story. All started with those planets appearing in your sky -”   
“Oh yeah!” Ryan exclaimed, “Don't tell me that you stopped it? Brought us back?”   
The Doctor beamed at him.  
“Yeah!” she exclaimed, “The TARDIS towed the Earth back! And we were all together - all my old friends - was one of the best times of my life.”   
“And that spaceship crashing into Big Ben, years ago, now - did you help with that?” Graham asked excitedly.  
“Yep!” the Doctor declared.   
“And that massive spaceship over London?” Yaz added.  
“Sure did,” the Doctor said proudly. This was really massaging her ego, and she'd be lying if she said she wasn't enjoying the looks on her friends’ faces.   
“So I'm guessing you also got involved when that weird shooty star descended onto London? And that Titanic ship nearly crashing into Buckingham Palace?” Graham piped up.   
“Check and check,” the Doctor winked, “Donna helped with the shooty star, though. And why is it always London?”  
“And every Christmas, too,” Graham said flatly.  
“Well, it's not just London - it was the whole world that one time, remember? With those Cyberman things?” Yaz said.   
“The Battle of Canary Wharf,” the Doctor said, the playfulness in her tone completely disintegrating. Her eyes dropped and her fists balled, and this didn't go unnoticed by Yaz.  
“Guess you're a real hero then, Doctor!” Yaz said chirpily, “Shall we get on with the tour now? In retrospect, space dinosaurs do sound pretty cool.”   
“You've changed your tune,” Ryan teased, but Yaz let him. If it meant sparing the Doctor having to think about that battle, she would let Ryan tease her.   
“Yes. Good idea. Ten points to Yaz,” the Doctor said, trying and failing to sound enthusiastic. The last thing she wanted to do was think about Canary Wharf.


	2. A River's Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, since I got so much encouraging feedback (thank you all so much, this is a very welcoming fandom!), I'm going to continue. I'm hoping to update on at least a weekly basis, if not more frequently. I'm really happy that people are receiving this well, and I hope I do these awesome characters justice!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little shorter, but important, because River is mentioned and addressed by the Doctor. As with the last chapter, I'm incorporating quotes from old episodes as little Easter eggs and throwbacks, so I hope they're well placed. Again, thank you to all those you commented/left kudos <3

Chapter Two - A River’s Song:  
“Okay, I have to admit, Ryan, you were right. That was amazing!” Yaz exclaimed jovially, as they exited the space dinosaur exhibition.  
“Told ya!” Ryan grinned.  
“Yaz, admitting Ryan was right? Think that's a first, ladies and gents,” Graham chuckled.   
“You're right there,” Ryan laughed, “Lemme savour this moment, Gramps. It's a pretty special one!”   
“Yeah, you'd do well to savour it. Will never happen again,” Yaz said, rolling her eyes.   
As the three of them laughed, the Doctor didn't join in. She was being strangely quiet, and, truth be told, wanting nothing more than to leave the library. It was dredging up too many painful memories.  
“Hey. You alright, Doctor?” Yaz asked quietly, falling back to keep in time with her slow pace. Graham and Ryan were none the wiser, happily bickering about which dinosaur was the most threatening and comparing what they had seen to Jurassic Park.   
The Doctor sniffed, wondering whether or not to be honest.  
“I'm fine. Just thinking,” the Doctor replied lightly. Not entirely without truth, she thought.   
“About your friend?” Yaz asked.   
The Doctor just nodded. There was no point in lying, not to Yaz, not when she was being so gentle and concerned and sincere.   
“I'm sorry if we were being intrusive, Doctor,” Yaz said, sighing, “But she sounds like a top lass.”  
“Yeah, she was,” the Doctor murmured, “Used to call me spaceman a lot. I'm not sure why. And blimey, she could shout. Had a lot to say for herself.”   
Yaz smiled. She liked it when the Doctor sounded happy when she reminiscing, rather than sad.   
“Sounds like a right character,” Yaz laughed, “Shame we can't meet her. And - and I'm sorry she had to leave you, Doctor. Must have been hard.”   
The Doctor stiffened, her shoulder tensed.   
“Don't worry, Yaz. Everyone leaves me in the end,” she mumbled.  
Yaz bit her lip, unsure of what to do. This was a woman suffering, a woman in pain, a woman with a dark and complete history that Yaz barely knew about. So she did the most human thing of all - she was kind.

“And above all, it's kind. It's just that - just kind.” 

She slipped her arm into the Doctor's and gripped it tightly, offering her a small smile.  
“Well, I'm not going anywhere if I can help it. I don't want to leave you, Doctor. Not when there's a whole universe out there to see.”   
Perhaps she'd said the wrong the thing, because the Doctor's face was caught oddly between happiness and unspeakable sadness. That was one of the most endearing things about the Doctor - she couldn't ever hide a single thing that she was feeling. 

“I made my choice a long time ago, and I'm never gonna leave you.”

“Sometimes you can't stay,” the Doctor said, her voice low and hollow, “No matter how much you want to.”   
Yaz sighed.  
“Well, I'm gonna try my hardest,” she declared, her grip on the Doctor's arm tightening as if she was afraid she'd start to disappear.   
The Doctor, to Yaz’s relief, managed a smile.  
“That’s the spirit, Yaz,” she said, her voice lighter.  
“Doctor!” Ryan called, “Reckon we could go and do a bit of exploring?”  
“Sure!” the Doctor said, happy for his enthusiasm and apparently quite relieved to change the subject, “Remember where the TARDIS is, right?”  
“Pretty much,” Graham said.   
The Doctor nodded.  
“Well, shout if you need me. I’m gonna have a word with Strackman, if I can find him,” the Doctor said.  
“Need any company?” Yaz asked, as the Doctor slipped her arm from Yaz's. Yaz would be lying if she said she didn't miss the contact.   
“Nah,” the Doctor said, “You go have fun. I won't be long.”   
“Okay,” Yaz said, with uncertainty, before wondering what the Doctor could possibly want with the haggard gentleman they stumbled across earlier.   
The Doctor offered a half-hearted smile, before turning on the balls of her feet and heading off in Strackman's direction.   
“Wonder what's eating her?” Graham said, when Yaz had caught up with them.  
Yaz shrugged.   
“I've no idea,” she admitted, “But I don't think being here is doing her any good.”   
“What makes you say that?” Ryan asked.  
“Just a feeling,” Yaz said bitterly.   
The Doctor, meanwhile, had found Strackman almost immediately. He was bustling about the place with a clipboard, stopping now and again to jab roughly at one of the computer screens, and swearing under his breath. He rolled his eyes when he looked up and saw her, and continued to go about his work.   
“What do you want?” he demanded grumpily, “I already told you - I'm a very busy man.”   
“I'm sorry to bother you,” the Doctor said, “But earlier, you mentioned that your team leader had disappeared?”   
“Yes, she has,” Strackman muttered, “Along with the rest of my team. But at least I know what happened to them.”   
The Doctor lowered her eyes.   
“The Vashta Nerada,” she said heavily.  
Strackman looked up in surprise.  
“Yes, that's - that's right,” he said suspiciously, “How do you know that?”   
The Doctor shrugged nonchalantly.  
“I'm very clever,” she said simply.  
Strackman didn't reply. He pressed his communication device and brought his mouth to it.   
“Professor Song?” he asked, “Come in, Professor Song.”   
There was nothing but a strange crackling sound. The Doctor winced slightly. The sound was like a harsh slap in the face, a reminder that River was gone for good, this time.   
Strackman swore under his breath.  
“The problem with a library this big,” he snarled, jabbing the computer screen again, “Is that you never know where your staff have wandered off to.”   
“River wasn't your staff,” the Doctor found herself saying, her voice flat.  
Strackman looked at her incredulously.  
“And what makes you think you know anything about it?” he scoffed.  
The Doctor didn't trust herself to say anything.   
“Well,” Strackman huffed, “If you don't have anything to say to me, then clear off. I need to concentrate.”   
“I came to tell you that River is dead.”   
She didn't mean for it to come out so flatly and coldly. But she couldn't help it. But she was gone, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. 

“You'll see me again. You've got all of that to come.”

Strackman blinked at her, his face draining of colour.  
“What?” he whispered.   
The Doctor dug her hands in her pockets, looking at the floor.   
“She died to save the Doctor,” she said, her voice hollow, “She didn't believe that time could be rewritten. She…”   
The Doctor trailed off, swallowing a lump that had grown in her throat.   
Strackman, who had had to sit down, put his face in his hands.   
“Oh, God,” he murmured, “So many...so many of them lost.”   
The Doctor didn't say anything. He was right, though. Miss Evangelista, Anita, Proper Dave and Other Dave...and River. They all lost their lives, here, in this accursed library.   
“I - the Doctor saved them,” the Doctor said, “Well, kind of. They're not alive in the sense we know, but C.A.L will look after them. And you'll look after C.A.L.”   
Strackman let out a long, weary sigh.  
“Yes. That's the whole reason they were here, at any rate. Still, this is going to be a financial nightmare.”   
The Doctor blinked at him.  
“Huh?” she said, narrowing her eyes.  
“A financial nightmare,” Strackman repeated, standing up, “I've got 4022 people demanding compensation, half of them are wanting to sue, I need to pay for the damage to the library itself, explain to the Intergalactic Court why I allowed the place to get overrun with those creatures - as if it was my fault - and I'll have to compensate the families of my team. Pay out. They all signed contracts.”   
The Doctor held her temper for almost three seconds. She was quite impressed with herself.  
“I'm sorry, I don't think I quite understand,” she said, her voice dangerously level, “You've just found out that your entire team is dead, and you're worried about money?”   
“Don't take the moral high ground with me. I still don't even know who you are, for god's sake,” Strackman spat.   
“It doesn't matter who I am,” the Doctor snarled, “You should be paying tribute to them, not worrying about money! They're more important than that!”   
Strackman glared at her.   
“And who are you to tell me how I base my decisions? You didn't even know my team. They don't mean anything to you, you weren't even here - wait - you're not a reporter, are you?”   
The Doctor's fists clenched together by her sides.   
“No, I'm not. But I should definitely get someone to do a piece on you - the man who doesn't care about his employees, only his losses,” she snarled.   
Strackman was not ruffled in the slightest.  
“Like I said, you have no right to bestow your judgement on me. I don't even know your name. Now good day, Madam, and let me get on with mine,” he said flatly.   
The Doctor gaped at him.   
“You really are the worst,” she growled, with as much venom she could muster.   
Strackman didn't even look in her direction. He just waved his hand away, clearly a sign of dismissal, expecting her to leave.  
And the Doctor did leave. Not because she wanted to, but because she was scared of what she would do if she didn't. She was shaking with anger, wondering how someone could value finance over their friends, and praying to every deity that she could think of that Ryan, Graham and Yaz were close by so they could get off planet as soon as possible. She couldn't handle being there much longer.


	3. I Did Worse Things Than You Will Ever Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fam keep asking questions, and the Doctor has a moment of anger.   
> Again, I've included a few quotes from past episodes, mainly because some of the writing on Doctor Who is pure genius, so it seems suitable to incorporate them!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, since I've had such lovely feedback (thank you all so much!), I've got a full story planned out. It'll be 10 chapters at minimum, but I suspect it'll be longer...

Chapter Three - I Did Worse Things Than You Will Ever Know:

“Are either of you really tempted to ask stone face about the Doc?” Graham asked, as Ryan was playing with a retro game he'd found on one of the computers, and Yaz was browsing the Intergalactic crime section on Shallacatop.  
“Apparently the entire planet got nicked!” Yaz said, not listening, “How does that work?”  
“Same way ours did, probably,” Ryan said, not taking his eyes off the screen.   
Graham sighed in the most over-dramatic way he could muster in order to get their attention.  
“Honestly, you two,” he said, shaking his head, “Aren't you interested in finding out more about her? I mean, we don't even know what species she is!”   
“Time Lord,” Yaz said, “She's a Time Lord - that's what the statue said.”   
“Yeah, but what does that mean?” Graham pressed.   
“No idea,” Ryan replied, “But it doesn't really matter, does it? She was pretty clear that she didn't want us snooping round.”   
“In my experience,” Graham said grimly, “That means you have something to hide.”   
“Well, she is 2000 years old or something mad like that. I'm sure she's got some stuff she'd wanna keep quiet,” Ryan said evenly.   
“True,” Yaz muttered, “I'm only 20 and there's stuff I'd rather forget.”   
At that point, the Doctor rounded the corner. Yaz smiled and opened her mouth to greet her, but words died in her throat when she saw how furious the Doctor looked. Her mouth was set in a tight line, her face drained of colour, and, though it was barely perceptible, she was shaking ever so slightly.   
“We’re going, fam,” she said, her voice tight.  
“I thought we weren’t doing ‘fam’,” Ryan said, not noticing how much the Doctor’s demeanor had changed.   
“I like it,” Yaz said defensibly, hoping her tiny bit of support would quell whatever was raging in the Doctor’s mind. She was wrong.   
“That’s not important right now,” the Doctor said, her gritted teeth giving her voice an uncharacteristically irritable edge, “We need to make a move.”  
“Aw, c’mon, Doc!” Graham said, also failing to see how tense she was, “I was just about to ask stone face-”  
“Don’t,” the Doctor interrupted, wincing, “Call her that. I mean - listen, I want to make a move because it’s not a good idea for us to be here at the moment.”  
“What? How come?” Ryan asked, finally tearing his eyes away from the screen.   
The Doctor took a deep breath.  
“Because I don’t like being here - wandering so close to my own timeline, I mean. It was a stupid idea to take you here. We need to leave.”  
“You let Yaz literally get involved to her own - when we went to see her Gran, and all,” Ryan mumbled.   
The Doctor shot him a very dangerous look.   
“That was different,” the Doctor said shortly.   
“Now hang on a second,” Graham said, “If we can go meddling in Yaz’s timeline, can we have a poke in mine? I’ve always wanted to see what -”  
“No,” the Doctor cut across him, “We - I can’t let you guys do anything like that again. It’s way too dangerous, and in retrospect, I don’t know what I thinking. It won’t happen again, I can assure you.”  
Yaz felt slightly uncomfortable. She didn’t like being used as ammunition, and she certainly didn’t like the fact that the Doctor clearly regretted her decision to see her Grandmother. But what was most frustrating was the fact that Graham and Ryan, for some reason, couldn’t see how on edge the Doctor was.   
“Let’s just get out of here,” Yaz said decidedly, when she could get a word in.   
The other two didn’t seem to protest, which Yaz was thankful for. As Ryan set about closing down the game, and Yaz was busy putting her book back in the right place, Graham stood close to the Doctor.   
“Can I ask you a serious question, Doc?” he murmured, so the other two couldn’t hear him.  
“Go ahead,” she replied, without much enthusiasm. She was still fuming about Strackman.   
“You said about meddling with timelines, and I get that it’s dangerous, but...well, you have a time machine. If anything goes really wrong, can’t you just nip back and change it?”  
“The laws of time don’t work like that,” the Doctor said, “As much as I might want to right my mistakes, some things can’t be changed.”  
“But how do you know?” Graham pressed.   
“Because I’m a Time Lord. It’s my duty to know,” she replied.   
“Yeah, but how -”  
“What are you asking for, Graham?” the Doctor asked, cutting across him. She could tell something was on his mind, but he was bumbling about his question with all the grace of a baby elephant.   
Graham let out a low sigh.  
“Can you bring Grace back, Doc?” he asked, his voice low.   
The Doctor internally groaned.   
“I know it’s a lot to ask, but - well, since I saw her in that mirror dimension, it made me think,” Graham continued.  
“Think what?” the Doctor asked, her voice low.  
“It made me think that there’s other versions of her out there. Parallel worlds and the like - and that maybe, if you really can’t save my Grace, maybe you could save another one?”   
The Doctor swallowed, lowering her eyes so she wasn’t looking at him.  
“I can’t, Graham,” she said softly, “Trust me when I say that I want to - she was a wonderful woman - but I just can’t.”  
Graham was quiet for a while, as if letting her heavy words sink in.   
“Why?” he murmured.   
“I just can’t.”  
“But you’re a Time Lord!” Graham said, his voice rising slightly, “You have a time machine! Surely - surely you can do anything you please, right?”

“The Laws of Time are mine, and they will obey me!”

“Some points in time are fixed, Graham,” the Doctor said quietly, “And I can’t change them. I learnt that the hard way, trust me.”  
“Trust you?” Graham exclaimed, drawing the attention of Yaz and Ryan, “Why should I, Doc? I - we - don’t know anything about you, and you won’t let us find out!”  
“Graham,” the Doctor said quickly, “If there was a way to save Grace, I would do it in a heartbeat. I know you’re upset, and I - I know exactly what you’re going through. But I can’t do anything about it.”  
“Why?” he pressed, “Why not? What could possibly happen if you brought her back? In what world would having Grace back make it a bad one?”  
“If I brought Grace back,” the Doctor said, her voice no longer gentle, “Tim Shaw would have achieved what he set out to do. The whole of the human race would be at risk. And if I pulled Grace from another point in time, it would rip a hole in the fabric of reality. Just stop and think about it, Graham. Grace’s death is recorded here, millions of years in the future, in an entirely different galaxy - it is fixed, and if I changed that, it would have repercussions across all of time and space. The damage - the damage would be irreversible. I’m sorry, but I can’t.”  
“But - and no disrespect intended - was Grace really that important?” Yaz piped up.  
“Oi!!” Ryan said grouchily.   
“No, Yaz has a point,” Graham said, holding up a hand to quiet Ryan, “How could rescuing her cause all that damage?”   
The Doctor sighed exasperatedly, running a hand through her hair.   
“Listen,” she said, “Time is not linear - it doesn’t follow a straight line of direct cause to effect. Everything that happens - every single, tiny, insignificant thing - has an impact. A far-reaching, immeasurable impact that you humans could even begin to wrap your heads around - and messing with that would ruin everything.”  
“Then how come you’re alright with us travelling in time, if it’s apparently so fragile?” Ryan argued.   
The Doctor let out a frustrated growl.  
“What is it with you lot today?” she demanded, “Why do you keep challenging me?”  
“Because we don’t understand, Doc. And it feels - it feels like…” Graham trailed off, shuffling awkwardly on the spot.   
“What? What do you want to say to me?” the Doctor demanded.   
Graham sighed.   
“It feels like you bend the rules for you, but not for anyone else.”  
The Doctor gaped at him, her mouth falling open. She stared at Yaz and Ryan for back-up, but when they didn’t say anything, she shook her head.  
“Tell me you’re joking,” she said incredulously.   
Graham swallowed nervously.  
“Doc,” he said quietly, “I mean not disrespect, but it seems to us that you can saunter about doing whatever you want - despite the whole ‘immeasurable impact’ thing or whatever - but when we want to do something, you tell us it’s impossible.”  
“And bringing Gran back isn’t like bringing back an entire planet or anything - I don’t see how it could hurt,” Ryan agreed.   
The Doctor pressed her lips together.  
“You don’t understand,” she said, her voice shaking, “There are things I wish I could do - more than anything - but I just can’t. I really, really, can’t. I’m sorry if you don’t understand it, but that’s just the way it is.”   
Graham shook his head.  
“So it’s one rule for us, and another for you, is it?” he said, “Doc, you do whatever you want. I mean, you saved all 4000 odd people here, for goodness sake, didn’t you? So why can’t you go back and save one?”  
“It is not that simple,” the Doctor protested.   
“How isn’t it?” Ryan demanded.   
“It just isn’t.”  
“Why?” Graham demanded, “Why? You go about time and space saving entire civilisations! But you can’t save Grace? How do you make that choice?”  
“I don’t have a choice!” the Doctor suddenly shouted, “If I had a choice in any of this, I wouldn’t be the last of my kind! If I could go back - if I could go back and stop my planet burning, my people burning, my family - my friends - then of course I would! Do you really think I’d sit by and live with the fact that 2.47 billion children on my planet died? Do you think I could?!”  
Graham, Yaz and Ryan stared at her, and Graham took a tentative step back.   
“I don’t have a choice in any of this!” the Doctor continued, throwing out her arms as her voice broke, “I never have and I never will! That’s the curse of the Time Lords - we have to live with the knowledge that we have the power to change things, but we never can!”  
An ugly silence hung in the air after her words. The Doctor turned away from them, a lump in her throat. She was breathing hard, her fists tightly balled. Ryan was looking unashamedly shocked, while Graham had adopted an expression of intense regret. Yaz simply looked upset. They had pushed her too far.  
“There are some things,” the Doctor continued, her voice constricted with emotion, “That I cannot undo. I’m sorry. My planet, and my people - I tried to save them, but it was at a price. One that I’m continuing to pay with permanent isolation. It was not the rescue I aimed for.”  
Nobody knew what to say. Yaz swallowed nervously, feeling cautious, but she approached the Doctor’s quivering frame. Hesitantly, as if dealing with a wild animal, she tentatively took her balled fist in her hand. She felt it relax.   
“Okay,” Yaz said quietly, “Okay, Doctor. We get it.”  
The Doctor let out a long sigh.  
“Back to the TARDIS then, fam?” she asked, her voice wavering.  
“Sure, Doc,” Graham said, lowering his head in shame.

Nobody really spoke on the flight home. Yaz had made the decision to head home for a bit, under the pretense that she missed her family, but really because she felt like the Doctor needed time to cool off.  
“I feel terrible, now,” Graham said mournfully, as he, Yaz, and Ryan headed towards Yaz’s flat. The Doctor politely declined the offer of ‘tea at Yaz’s’, which was something she had never done before. They had left her in the TARDIS - apparently, she had some needed maintenance to attend to that would take all day. Tomorrow, she said, they could go somewhere of Yaz’s choosing, since it was her turn. She didn’t sound too thrilled about the idea, though.   
“It’s not your fault, Granddad,” Ryan said, “You didn’t know.”  
“Yeah, but still. I pushed her,” Graham said.   
“I think we all did,” Yaz said sorrowfully, “We never should have gone to that library.”  
“See, that was my fault, too!” Graham said miserably.   
“No it wasn’t - it was the Doctor’s decision to take us there, and it was her decision to not tell us about her history,” Ryan said evenly.   
“Yeah, but can you blame her?” Yaz said grimly.   
Ryan let out a low whistle, shaking his head.  
“No,” he mumbled, “I really can’t.”  
Graham and Ryan peeled off and set off to their house, while Yaz continued to hers. In all honesty, since the Doctor’s outburst, all she had wanted was a little cry. It felt like a punch in the stomach to see the Doctor like that - so heart-stoppingly furious and upset, so vulnerable and afraid of what they would think of her. But what struck Yaz most of all was how lonely she seemed. So without hope.   
Sniffing, Yaz let herself into the flat. Her parents were at work, but she found Sonya sat on the sofa in front of the television.  
“Shouldn’t you be at school?” Yaz demanded.  
“Hello to you, too,” Sonya said sarcastically, “And I have study leave. What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you’d be with your girlfriend.”  
Yaz felt her face flame.  
“She’s not my girlfriend,” she spat, heading to her room, “Don’t listen to whatever nonsense Mum is feeding you.”  
“Oh, come on, Yaz! I’ve seen the way you look at her - you can’t fool anyone!” Sonya teased.  
Yaz ignored her, slamming her bedroom door shut. Tears were in her eyes. Not because of what Sonya had said - her sister and mother speculated about her private life so much, she was surprised they hadn’t accused Graham of being her boyfriend - but because of the Doctor herself. Yaz felt so helpless. Clearly the Doctor was hurting, and had been for hundreds of years, and there was nothing she could do about it. No matter how hard she tried.   
She pressed her lips together and flopped down on her bed, staring at the fading glow in the dark stars on her ceiling. She felt a tear slide down her cheek, and made no attempt to stop it.  
Thing is, she didn't even know who she was crying for - for Graham and Ryan, who had no chance of getting Grace back, for the Doctor, who had clearly lost more than she could even imagine, or for herself, because she had seen a side of the Doctor she didn't like - she was scared of her, for a moment. And that thought squirmed uncomfortably in Yaz's stomach.


	4. The Fallout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team TARDIS deal with the fallout of the Doctor's out-of-character attitude, while strange signals converging around Yaz's block of flats piques the Doctor's interest. Sonya pokes her nose in where she shouldn't, and Yaz is forced to think about her feelings for a certain blonde time traveler...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a big chapter, at 3,291 words, so it covers a lot! This is when the alien threat begins to emerge, and Yaz starts to consider her feelings for Doctor. As usual, thank you for the wonderful feedback - I've never encountered a fandom so accommodating before!
> 
> Also I have Tumblr now: my page is pretends-to-art and I basically just post memes but ya know it's fun! :D

Chapter Four - The Fallout:

Yaz wasn't sure how long she lay there, staring at the ceiling, until the doorbell rang.  
“Son!” Yaz called, “Can you get that?”  
“I'm busy!” Sonya yelled back. She was, in fact, still sat in front of the TV doing nothing of particular importance.  
Muttering profanities under her breath, Yaz wiped at her eyes, and headed for the door. She got a surprise when she opened it.  
“Doctor?” Yaz said, startled, “What are you doing here?”  
“Sorry, Yaz,” the Doctor said, pushing past her, “Don't have much time.”  
“But what - hey, are you alright?” Yaz asked timidly, when she caught sight of the Doctor's face.  
“I'm fine, nothing to worry about! Just - had some signals I'm not happy about, and they're conveening round your block of flats,” the Doctor said airly, Sonic at the ready.  
“That's not what I meant,” Yaz said quietly. She was concerned, because the Doctor's eyes were slightly red. It would have been barely noticeable if Yaz hadn't been standing so close to her, but it was definitely there.  
“Oh, hello, Doctor!” Sonya said, suspiciously cheerfully.  
“Hi, Yaz's sister!” the Doctor beamed, “Now if you don't mind, I need to zap you telly.”  
Sonya had a lot of questions as the Doctor clambered behind their TV and started rummaging around, but she decided on the least important question that situation offered.  
“So Doctor,” she began slyly, “How long have you been seeing my sister?”  
Yaz spluttered on the slight intake of breath she had taken just to breathe, and felt herself blush.  
“Erm,” the Doctor said thoughtfully, not really understanding the question, “I don’t know, now that you mention it. When did we meet, Yaz?”  
“We’re just friends, Son,” Yaz hissed, “And we met back in September, remember?”  
“Oh yeah!” the Doctor said brightly, “Gosh, five months with Yaz. Lucky old me, eh?”  
Yaz, though it seemed impossible, felt her face grow even hotter.  
Sonya shot Yaz a triumphant look that screamed ‘I told you so’ with insulting vigor. Choosing to ignore her sister's antics, Yaz wandered over to the Doctor and peered at what she was up to.  
“What exactly are you doing?” Yaz asked, as she crouched down to the Doctor’s level and watched her poke at the cords and wires running from the television.  
“There’s signals,” the Doctor said, “Which are worrying. They’re converging round your block of flats and seem to have something to do with the signals. TV signals in particular.”  
“What, so the alien is in the TV?” Yaz said sarcastically.  
“Might not be alien,” the Doctor said evenly, “And you’d be surprised - I once faced a psychotic television monster that stole people’s faces on the eve of Queen Elizabeth II’s coronation.”  
Yaz blinked at her. She decided not to question it - the Doctor had a habit of revealing random facts about her past adventures that went entirely over Yaz’s head.  
“Is it - is it dangerous?” Yaz muttered under her breath, so Sonya wouldn’t hear. The girl wasn’t paying much attention at any rate - she was typing on her phone at lightning speed, probably gossiping to her friends about the weird blonde woman Yaz kept bringing home.  
The Doctor paused, a frown creasing her face.  
“Honestly, I’m not sure,” she admitted, “Which is why I need to get a move on. I’m afraid your choice of destination will have to wait, Yaz.”  
“I’m surprised that was even still on the cards, given what happened earlier,” Yaz said, without thinking.  
The Sonic died in the Doctor’s hand as she stopped what she was doing. Yaz watched with a surge of anxiety as the Doctor took a deep, calming breath, her shoulders tensed.  
“Yeah. Sorry about that,” the Doctor muttered.  
“No! You don’t - you don’t have to be sorry,” Yaz said quickly, “We overstepped the mark.”  
The Doctor shrugged, the Sonic whirring to life again.  
“Slightly,” she nodded, “You lot do like to bombard me.”  
Yaz felt a slight prickle of annoyance. It wasn’t their fault that the Doctor was the first alien they’d encountered and they knew next to nothing about her.  
“Well if you’d trust us enough to tell us about your history, then maybe things like that wouldn’t happen,” Yaz found herself saying, her voice flat.  
The Doctor sighed, dropping her head in exasperation.  
“It’s not a question of trust, Yaz,” she said softly, “It’s just - you humans - you couldn’t even begin to understand.”  
There was that flicker of annoyance again in Yaz’s stomach.  
“Why’d you keep us around then?” she demanded, stung.  
The Doctor paused her work again, and turned her head to look at her. 

“In amongst seven billion, there's someone like you. That's why I put up with the rest of them.” 

“Because - well, to put it bluntly - you lot are good for me. You keep me to the mark. And because of all the humans I’ve met, and travelled with, I’ve been changed for the good.”  
Yaz felt her response die in her throat at the Doctor’s sincere words. She didn’t know what to say, so she just offered a small, heartfelt smile which she hoped conveyed her feelings.  
She was going to say more, but Sonya's phone started to make a very irritating, cracking sound.  
“Turn your phone on silent for once, yeah Son?” Yaz said irritably, “The Doctor is trying to concentrate.”  
“It's not my fault!” Sonya protested, jabbing at her phone screen, “It's been doing this on and off since that new update!”  
Yaz glared at her suspiciously.  
“Well, mine has been behaving just fine, and we're on the same operating system,” she said.  
“Cuz you're never here long enough to update your phone, that's why. You're too busy running after your girlfriend,” Sonya muttered.  
“Sonya!” Yaz snarled, going red, “Like I've said a thousand bloody times, we're friends.”  
“Hmmm,” the Doctor murmured. Yaz glanced at her, unsure whether or not she was responding to Sonya's comment or to the TV she was scanning. Yaz didn't get the chance to ask, for the Doctor suddenly jumped up.  
“Anyway,” the Doctor said, clearing her throat, “I need to go back to the TARDIS to run diagnostics. I won’t be long.”  
“Want me to come with you?” I’m not up to much,” Yaz said, recovering from her earlier embarrassment and avoiding Sonya's scrutinizing gaze.  
“Nah,” the Doctor said, throwing her hands in her pockets, “You won’t find it very entertaining. But if things progress, I’ll call you - bring Ryan and Graham too, yeah? I only have your number.”  
“I’m still surprised you own a phone, to be honest,” Yaz chuckled.  
“I live in a phone box, Yaz! Of course I do!” the Doctor exclaimed.  
*  
“You sure she still wants us around?” Graham asked anxiously, as he, Ryan and Yaz headed towards where the TARDIS was left.  
“Yes,” Yaz repeated, “Like I said, she came round a few hours ago and asked me to get you guys if there was any progress in her findings - and apparently, there was.”  
“Should we be worried?” Graham asked.  
Yaz shrugged.  
“Well, can’t be any worse than that Dalek thing, can it?” she said airily.  
“True. That was insane,” Graham said darkly.  
Their adventure on New Year’s Day was something that haunted all three of them constantly. They had never seen the Doctor so clearly afraid, and so angry - but the most frightening thing were the lengths the Doctor went to to stop it. She put them all at great risk. Of course, the three of them knew what they had signed up for, but Ryan’s dad Aaron was put in danger without even realising it, and the Doctor didn’t seem concerned.  
“Speaking of that,” Ryan piped up, his hands dug into his pockets to keep from the cold, “I’ve been thinking about it.”  
“Same,” Graham shuddered, “Can’t keep it out of my head.”  
Ryan shook his head.  
“I didn't mean it like that, but I know what you mean - it was grim. I was thinking about the fact that the Doctor seemed totally cool with letting my dad die if the Dalek died with him.”  
An awkward silence settled between them. Graham let out a low sigh.  
“Well, in the Doc's defense, he's not exactly her top priority to look out for.”  
Ryan looked outraged.  
“Maybe, but he's still my dad!” he exclaimed, outraged, “He didn't deserve to be sucked into space!”  
“And he wasn't,” Yaz said evenly, “I severely doubt the Doctor would have let him die, really. She just wanted to get rid of that Dalek.”  
“You didn't see her expression,” Ryan said darkly, “If I hadn't gotten involved, he would be dead and I'd have no parents left.”  
Yaz and Graham didn't get the chance to reply, as the Doctor poked her head out the TARDIS and called to them.  
“Quickly, fam!” she called, “I need to get somewhere, and fast!”  
She rushed them into the TARDIS, before slamming the door and bouncing towards to console.  
“What is it, Doc? What's going on?” Graham asked, and she dashed about the controls like a madwoman.  
“I don't know!” she exclaimed excitedly, “Isn't that brilliant!”  
“Brilliant? What's brilliant about being clueless?” Ryan asked, as the TARDIS whirred to life.  
“I'm following a signal,” the Doctor said, “A very weird, almost unreadable signal that makes literally no sense to me! Even the TARDIS doesn't have any recognition code for it!”  
“And you're excited about that because…?” Graham said, before the TARDIS jerked suddenly and he had to grab onto the console to support himself.  
“Because I very very rarely don't know something!” the Doctor beamed, “This hardly ever happens!”  
“What, and you found this signal around my flat?” Yaz asked.  
“It's like the bloody giant spiders all over again,” Graham grumbled.  
“Exactly!” the Doctor cried, slamming her hand down on a button in an attempt to stabilise the TARDIS, “It's incredibly unusual! In Sheffield, of all places!”  
“Oi, don't you start bashing Sheffield,” Graham warned.  
“So where exactly are we going, then?” Ryan asked, stumbling slightly as the TARDIS lurched from under him.  
“I don't know - I honestly don't - I'm just following this signal I picked up from Yaz's telly,” the Doctor explained, “It seems to have something to do with TV signals - or maybe satellite signals - but it sure isn't to do with the static, because that's the voices of the dead!”  
Ryan, Graham and Yaz all exchanged a look of horror and confusion.  
“Huh?” Ryan said unintelligibly.  
“The static!” the Doctor repeated, “You know, that black and white static TVs emit when there's no signal!”  
“That’s - that’s the dead?” Ryan spluttered.  
The Doctor sighed loudly, clearly not wanting to explain.  
“Yes! Well - sort of - maybe - but that’s not important!” she exclaimed, “What’s important is that we’re hurtling towards a destination that I know next to nothing about!”  
The TARDIS, as if on cue, gave a great groan, and threw the Doctor off course. She stumbled with difficulty, nearly falling into Ryan, before she corrected herself.  
“And apparently, the Old Girl is none too happy about going,” the Doctor said breathlessly, pushing back the hair that had fallen into her eyes.  
“Is it supposed to be making that noise?” Yaz said worriedly, as the TARDIS became to emit a frantic crackling noise that seemed strangely familiar.  
The Doctor’s expression was unreadable, but she wasn’t entirely thrilled.  
“Um - not really,” she admitted, frowning, “In all honesty, I’ve never heard her make that noise before. She must be really unhappy about where we’re going - she’s been the end of the universe before - so wherever we’re headed must be risky.”  
“Are we in danger?” Graham said anxiously.  
The Doctor bit her lip, slamming down a lever that had popped back up. The TARDIS was really fighting her.  
“Probably - oh, who I am I kidding - definitely,” she said, as the TARDIS gave another unhealthy groan, “But you don’t have to come. You know that, right? If ever you want to turn back, just get into the TARDIS and she’ll protect you.”  
Yaz shook her head vigorously.  
“No,” she said vehemently, “I’m with you, whatever happens.”  
The Doctor swallowed hard, not looking at her.  
“Agreed,” Graham nodded, “If anything, we owe it to you, Doc. You’ve saved the world more times than we can count.”

“He has saved your lives so many times and you never even knew he was there. He never  
stops, he never stays - he never asks to be thanked.”

“Exactly. And if you need us, we’d want to be there,” Ryan piped up.  
The Doctor’s eyes softened as she looked at them all. Her new friends, standing tall and willing to give everything to help her. It warmed her heart and terrified her at the same time.  
“I don’t know where we’re going,” the Doctor said, “But the TARDIS doesn’t want us going there. That means it’ll be dangerous - maybe as dangerous as facing down that Dalek - so if I tell you to run, you run. Even if it means abandoning me. Okay?”  
“No!” Yaz protested incredulously, “Don’t be ridiculous - we’re not going to leave you!”  
The Doctor shook her head.  
“Yaz, I appreciate the sentiment,” the Doctor said, “Trust me, I do. But - but I can’t afford to lose any more people who I care about. So for my sake, do as I say?”  
Yaz clearly wanted to argue, but she decided against it. Some things were better left unsaid, and she respected the Doctor more than she wanted to help.  
The TARDIS jerked sharply with such an extreme jolt, that the four of them were thrown off their feet.  
“Oof!” Graham winced, the air knocked out of his lungs, “Does that nice little gesture mean we’ve landed?”  
“I think so,” the Doctor said, scrambling to her feet. She pulled herself up via the control board, and scanned the monitor readings. A crease appeared between her eyebrows.  
“But - but that can’t be right,” she muttered, tapping the screen.  
“What? What’s going on?” Ryan asked, after Yaz had helped pull him to his feet.  
“That’s impossible,” the Doctor whispered, apparently not hearing him, “It makes no sense. It makes literally zero sense!”  
“What is it?” Yaz asked urgently, leaning over her shoulder to look at the readings. They made absolutely no sense to her, but the Doctor clearly understood enough to cause her to panic.  
“This is wrong,” she murmured, “There’s no reason the TARDIS would fight me so hard if we were just coming back here.”  
“Where is here?!” Graham demanded. When the Doctor didn’t answer, for she was too busy banging various buttons on the control board, Ryan huffed and marched towards to the doors.  
He threw them open with impatient vigor, ignoring Yaz’s shouts telling him to stop, and stepped outside.  
“Ryan!” Yaz cried, “What the hell are you doing?! It’s dangerous!”  
Ryan didn’t reply. Instead, he did something very unexpected.  
“Is - is he laughing?” Graham spluttered in disbelief.  
Graham was completely right. Ryan was letting out a jovial, affable chuckle, one that penetrated the feeling of dread surrounding the TARDIS.  
“What on earth does he have to laugh about?” Yaz exclaimed suspiciously.  
“That’s the point!” Ryan cried, poking his head back through the doors, “We’re literally on earth! Honestly, we’ve barely moved - come and have a look!”  
Yaz and Graham exchanged a look, before joining him outside.  
“Well, would you look at that!” Graham said, his mouth having fallen open.  
The three of them were stood just outside Yaz’s block of flats, perhaps a metre from where they were originally parked. It was drizzling, grey, and thoroughly uninviting, but it was pretty much exactly where they had left.  
“We’re home!” Ryan beamed, “Guess the old box was off the mark!”  
“Don’t call her an old box,” the Doctor said grumpily, as she cautiously edged her head out. On seeing that it was really was just modern-day Sheffield, her mouth fell open in the same comical manner as Graham’s.  
“But - but it wasn’t raining when we left, was it?” Yaz said, frowning.  
“And what’s that weird smell? Metal?” Graham commented.  
“We’re at the centre of a steel-works empire, Gramps,” Ryan said, rolling his eyes, “Of course it’s gonna smell of metal.”  
“Maybe, but not like this. This ain’t right,” Graham said.  
The Doctor, brandishing her Sonic, finally stepped out, and began scanning the empty air around them.  
“Graham is right,” the Doctor muttered, “This isn’t right.”  
“How isn’t it right?” Ryan said, irked, “We’re literally in the same place. It’s like we haven’t moved at all.”  
“We have moved,” the Doctor said, “We moved one month into the future. Same day, same time, nearly exactly the same place - and that’s what’s weird. It doesn’t make sense that the TARDIS would react so badly coming here, nor does it make sense that the tiny signal I picked up managed to pull us through space and time. It shouldn’t have the capacity.”  
“What does that mean?” Yaz said anxiously.  
The Doctor swallowed, suddenly very serious.  
“It means,” she said, “That something else pulled us here. Boosted the signal. That’s probably why the TARDIS was fighting me - it sensed that I wasn’t the only pilot.”  
A cold feeling of trepidation washed over the three of them.  
“But - but you said it was dangerous. How can Sheffield be dangerous?” Graham said nervously.  
“More importantly, what has the power to hack the TARDIS like that?” Yaz swallowed.  
“Very good point, Yaz,” the Doctor nodded, “We should get back inside. Now.”  
No one argued with her. They could tell how on edge she was - perhaps more so than in the Library - and considering she was no longer excited about being clueless, they could tell the situation was grave.  
Once the Doctor was back at the console, she immediately began clicking the buttons and turning the dials.  
“What are you doing?” Yaz asked.  
“Getting out of here,” the Doctor muttered, “It's wrong - it's all wrong. We shouldn't be here.”  
“But you said it was dangerous, didn't you?” Graham said worriedly.  
The Doctor bowed her head, leaning heavily over the console.  
“Yes. Which is why we need to go,” she said flatly.  
“But we can't!” Ryan exclaimed, “You say something dangerous is out there, and it's only a month away - we can't just pack up and go knowing that something this big is in our future.”  
“Time can be rewritten and changed,” the Doctor muttered.  
“That's not what you said earlier,” Graham said, scratching the back of his head, “You said that some things can't be changed - that you can't go back.”  
“And I also said that you humans couldn't even begin to understand the intricacies of time travel,” the Doctor replied, her teeth gritted.  
“So we're just gonna leave? Leave with a massive threat that could impact our city - and our families - just around corner? A threat so big that it can control the TARDIS?” Ryan said, biting his lip.  
The Doctor sighed heavily.  
“I can fix this,” she said, “But not now. It's too dangerous - it's safer for all of you to head back and be out of danger.”  
“We can't run, Doctor,” Yaz said urgently, “We never run. Not from anything.”  
“Yeah!” Graham nodded, “Come on, Doc, you never give up!”

“You don’t just give up. You don’t just let things happen. You make a stand! You say no! You have the guts to do what’s right, even when everyone else just runs away.” 

“I wasn't planning on it!” the Doctor said, her voice raised, “Alright? I was always going to come back. I just -”  
“You were going to drop us off back home and come here alone, weren't you?” Yaz said, putting her hands on her hips.  
The Doctor at least had the decency to look bashful.  
“Maybe?” she said, doing a horrible job of pretending to be innocent.  
Yaz glared at her, shaking her head.  
“Doctor, if you don’t want us here, you just have to say,” Ryan grumbled.  
“Fam!” the Doctor cried, “For goodness sake! It’s not personal! I just - I don’t want to see you getting hurt.”  
“Yeah?” Yaz said, “Well, we don’t want you getting hurt either. You keep calling us ‘fam’-”  
“Doesn’t she just,” Ryan interrupted with a disapproving mutter.  
“ - and that means family,” Yaz continued, shooting Ryan a venomous look, “And families don’t let their own go head first into unknown danger without running right behind them. And that isn’t personal, either - it’s in the job description.”  
The Doctor didn't get the chance to respond, because the TARDIS suddenly made a huge, ringing bang, the part of the console she was at suddenly jerking with a sparky burst. The Doctor was thrown off her feet, and she fell straight into Yaz.  
“Doctor!” Ryan yelped, racing to support her.  
But Yaz was managing just fine on her own. She helped steady the Doctor, one arm around her shoulders and the other securing round her waist.  
“Blimey, is she alright? She’s smoking!” Graham said, panicked.  
“Alright, calm down, Granddad,” Ryan winked playfully.  
Graham rolled his eyes.  
“Now is not the time for jokes, Ryan,” he said firmly, “And you know full-well I didn’t mean it like that.”  
Ryan nodded.  
“Fair,” he grinned, “Besides, wouldn’t want to make Yaz jealous.”  
“Ryan, I swear, I will kick you to the Lost Moon of Poosh if you breathe another word,” Yaz hissed dangerously, her arms straining to keep the Doctor from crumpling to the floor.  
“Sorry, sorry!” Ryan said, holding up his hands in defeat.  
“Seriously, though, is the Doc okay? She isn’t - she isn’t dead, is she?” Graham said anxiously, lifting up her limp head. She stirred with a groan, causing him to jump back.  
“Trust me,” she slurred, her voice thick, “You’d know if I was dead. I’d start to glow. It’s quite the sight, really, good ol’ regeneration. Saved me more times than I can count. Well, I can count them, actually, it’s been about -”  
“Not the time, Doctor!” Yaz said exasperatedly, “You just fainted!”  
“I didn’t faint,” the Doctor said, still clinging onto her, “I had a quick nap, that’s all.”  
“Doc, if that’s what you Time Lords call ‘a nap’, I’m glad I ain’t one of you,” Graham said.  
The Doctor managed a smile, before her eyes fell to the smoking console. As if remembering what had caused her lapse of control, a grave shadow passed over her face.  
“We're stuck,” the Doctor muttered, still slightly dazed.  
“Huh?” Graham said.  
“We're stuck,” the Doctor repeated, disentangling herself from Yaz and standing precariously on her own, “The TARDIS - she threw me off. Something or someone has grounded us here.”  
“What - what does that mean?” Ryan stuttered.  
“It means,” the Doctor said, unsteady, “That we need to get a shift on and find out what's keeping us here.”


	5. Metal and the City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team TARDIS encounter something worrying in the near future of Sheffield, Ryan meets an old flame, and the Doctor handles a difficult question. Oh, and Tea at Yaz's!   
> (This is where we first encounter the peculiarity in this story - aka Dark Doctor is incoming in the next few chapters as she deals with an alien threat).   
> 'Perhaps that's why she had two hearts, Yaz pondered - for if one caved into darkness and restfulness, the other would carry on beating with that same reliable alacrity and hopefulness that Yaz had started to love.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually really happy with this chapter! We're going to meet an OC as well as an alien threat, so this is basically the chapter when things really start to heat up for the fam. Expect confusion, but all will become clear in time! As usual, thank you all so much for taking the time to give me feedback. I really appreciate it and it's super inspiring!

Chapter Five - Metal and the City:  
“So one minute you’re excited about danger, then you freak out and tell us not to come, before pretending you’ll take us with you when instead you’d ditch us back in the present, and now you’re fine with us coming along? It’s like a bloody roller-coaster with you, Doc,” Graham said, shaking his head, as the four of them left the safety of the TARDIS for the second time.  
“Yeah!” the Doctor agreed, “Good fun though, right?”  
Graham couldn’t help but allow a small smile to creep onto his face.   
“Oh, one hundred and ten percent!” he declared.  
“Huh, only one hundred and ten?” the Doctor pouted, disappointed.  
“Besides, I thought you hated roller-coasters,” Ryan mocked, knocking Graham's shoulder playfully.   
“And I thought I taught you better than to joke around in serious situations,” Graham scolded, knocking him back.   
“Is this a serious situation, though?” Yaz commented, “I mean, we know something is amiss, but look around - it’s just another ordinary day.”  
Yaz was completely correct, as usual. If anything, things seemed more lively than usual - there was a communal and altogether pleasant buzz about the place, with children out and about on bikes, and families walking out together without the use of phones. The rain was gentle and hazy, and none too uncomfortable, but that odd metal tang in the air that Graham had noticed was hanging about heavily, causing the Doctor to frown.   
“What is that smell?” she muttered, “If I didn't know better, I'd say it's almost like the metal tang that teleports leave behind.”   
She stuck her tongue out, as if attempting to taste the air, before moving her tongue around her mouth and smacking her lips together.   
“Nah, it's too metallic,” she said, shaking her head.   
“It's too metallic for a metal smell?” Ryan said.  
The Doctor shrugged.  
“Trust me, you'd be surprised - salt can be too salty, for example,” she said casually.   
“And you worked that how?” Ryan laughed.  
“I was poisoned by giant wasp masquerading as a vicar!” the Doctor said cheerfully, “But I managed to dispel it. Can't say I deserved to get poisoned, I grant you, but I was hunting him down for murder. Not explicitly - if I'm honest, I thought the culprit was that jewel thief - but sometimes, even people like me get things wrong!”   
Ryan gaped at her.   
“Wait - did you say you met a giant wasp disguised as a vicar?!” he spluttered.   
“I did!” the Doctor beamed, “He had some anger issues. It wasn't his fault, though, but he did kill several people.”   
“Huh. And I thought a talking frog was weird,” Ryan said.   
“The beauty of time and space, eh?” the Doctor grinned, her eyes alight with mirth.   
Yaz couldn't help but smile privately to herself. She loved it when the Doctor told them tales of her past adventures, and her childlike excitement and enthusiasm never failed to put Yaz in a good mood.   
The Doctor was an insatiable optimist - and that, to Yaz, really was a genuine achievement. Because despite everything she had been through, the Doctor still carried her life in good spirits. When so easily she could have turned cold and bitter, she clung onto whatever warmth or beauty she could find, and held onto it like a lifeline. Perhaps that's why she had two hearts, Yaz pondered - for if one caved into darkness and restfulness, the other would carry on beating with that same reliable alacrity and hopefulness that Yaz had started to love. The Doctor had had her share of terrible, world-shaking events that could have so easily ruined her, but she remained the same as she always had been - finding the good in everything to heal the bad. 

“The way I see it, every life is a pile of good things and bad things. The good things don’t always soften the bad things, but vice versa, the bad things don’t always spoil the good things and make them unimportant.”

“You alright, Yaz? You're miles away,” Graham commented.   
Yaz went slightly pink - she was consciously trying not to drift off with thoughts of the Doctor, but apparently, she was unsuccessful.   
“Yeah, I'm fine. Just wary of whatever this oncoming threat is,” she said evenly.   
“Well, it hasn't made itself known so far!” Graham said encouragingly.   
“Don't speak so soon,” the Doctor said gravely. She had been walking ahead of them slightly, and had rounded the corner of a large building of office blocks before the other three.   
Ryan, Graham and Yaz increased their pace slightly to catch up with her, and, one by one, their eyes widened in bewilderment and shock.   
There were great metal sheets discarded all over the place. Some were warped around trees, as if they had been there since the shoots of the trees first broke the earth, others were lent casually against park benches, while one, seemingly defying all laws of buoyancy, was floating on the middle of the Chap Fountains.   
“What - what the hell?” Yaz gasped.   
“Quite the sight, aren’t they!” a voice said cheerfully. The group looked up and saw a merry dog walker waving at them. She was young, wearing a red tartan coat and a thigh-high boots, topped off with a dark green beanie hat pulled down over her long, dark hair.   
“Oh, I like your coat!” the Doctor exclaimed excitedly, heading over. Yaz followed her immediately, shortly joined by Graham and Ryan up the rear.   
The girl laughed, pushing stray hair out of her eyes and trying to tuck it back into her hat.   
“I could say the same thing to you - very unique!” she smiled, nodding at the Doctor’s coat.  
As the Doctor beamed at the compliment, Yaz felt something almost like jealousy prickle through her heart.  
“Say, those metal things - what are they?” she piped up, planting herself firmly next to the Doctor by way of a statement.  
“Oh,” the girl said, as though surprised Yaz was so direct, “No one is really sure, to be honest with you. They popped up about - oh, I don’t know, about three weeks ago, maybe?”  
“But what do they do?” Yaz asked.   
“Nothing,” the girl replied flippantly, “They just sit there. Police were called, even some specialists, but they’re nothing extraordinary. They’re just sheets of ordinary alloy.”  
“Why didn’t they decide to move them?” Yaz questioned. She was falling back easily into her role of police officer, even if she did sound a tad demanding.   
The girl raised her eyebrows at them suspiciously.   
“What, you really don’t know?” she said, smirking.   
“That’s why we’re asking,” the Doctor smiled, the perfect balance of politeness and authority.   
“Well,” the girl sighed, wandering over to where one of the sheets was lying on the pavement, “Because of this.”   
With that, she gave the thing a mighty kick. There was the expected sound - a clang of boot on metal - but what was most unusual was that the sheet didn’t move a fraction of an inch, or even vibrate.   
“See!” the girl said triumphantly, “They physically can’t be moved. They even took a digger to one down the road, the other day, but it was as if the surrounding ground was made of unbreakable concrete, or something. Really bizarre.”  
“Yeah, that’s one word for it,” Graham said, shocked.  
“Yes. Really bizarre. And really quite worrying,” the Doctor said, digging in her pockets and grabbing the Sonic. She got on her knees and began scanning it, her eyes squinting.   
“What, so they just appeared out of thin air? And they can’t be moved? How many are there?” Yaz asked, as the Doctor grunted in confusion at her feet.   
“Gosh, you lot either live under a rock or aren’t from round here,” the girl chuckled, “They just appeared all around Sheffield. Nowhere else, just here. And there’s about two dozen, now, but more appear everyday. You know, I reckon they’re some sort of artistic statement - like Banksy, but with sculptures.”  
“I’m not artist, but if these sculptures count as art, then it’s a load of s-”  
“Surely something is being done about them?” Yaz asked, sternly interrupting Graham.  
“True,” Graham nodded, “ I mean, what if the whole city gets encased in metal?”  
“Well, they tried all they could,” the girl replied, “But they won’t budge. Reckon we need more of an expert.”   
Graham smiled knowingly.   
“Lucky we’re here, then!” he grinned, nudging Ryan, who was being suspiciously quiet.  
“Um,” the girl said, as her dog impatiently tugged on the lead, “What exactly is your friend doing?”  
She was looking down skeptically at the Doctor, whose tongue was poking out in concentration, as she ran the Sonic over the surface area of the sheet.  
“She's an expert,” Graham said quickly, “Right, Doc?”  
“Huh?” the Doctor said, glancing up, to find all four of them gawking at her.   
“Oh! Yeah! I am!” the Doctor beamed, rummaging in her pockets again and flinging the psychic paper in the direction of the girl.   
She took it, frowning, before her eyes widened.   
“You're M.I.5? That's - surely you shouldn't be telling me this?” she said, shocked.  
“Um,” the Doctor said, scrambling to her feet, “New policy. I'm not like undercover or anything! Just helping out the general Yorkshire community!”  
The girl looked rather skeptical nonetheless, before cautiously handing back the paper.  
“Right,” she said, “Well, good luck with everything. Would be nice if things could get solved soon - been a pretty weird start to 2019!”   
As she made to move on, her dog suddenly jumped towards Ryan. He, who had been obscured behind Graham and Yaz, suddenly looked quite alarmed as the dog jumped up and scrambled at his jeans.  
“Alfred!” the girl exclaimed, “Oh, I’m so sorry - get down, Al!”   
As if noticing Ryan for the first time, her eyes widened and her face split into a warm smile.  
“Oh my goodness - Ryan Sinclair, don’t tell me that’s you under that hat?” she grinned, as she yanked the dog away from him with some effort. He was a handsome golden retriever, who was looking rather sour at being disallowed from muddying Ryan’s jeans with his great paws.   
“Er - yeah. Hi, Ellie,” he said, his voice going oddly high-pitched.  
“You two know each other?” Graham said, looking between the pair with a confused frown.  
“We used to work together!” Ellie said brightly, “Well, I worked in the office. Ryan would pop in now and again when the warehouse got too dull and we’d have a cuppa - I haven’t seen you since I resigned, though, how have you been?”  
“Yeah good,” Ryan said, his voice cracking as if he was a teenager, “Been busy. Working hard. The usual.”  
Ellie smiled at him, but it didn’t extend to her eyes. She was thinking about Grace.  
“I - I heard about your Gran,” she said, her voice soft, “I’m really sorry, Ry. I wanted to send a card, but we hadn’t spoken in so long, I thought it might be weird. But Grace - Grace was an incredible woman.”   
She reached out and placed her hand comfortingly on his arm, and he recoiled slightly at her touch, before recovering with slight embarrassment.  
“Thank you,” he said genuinely, “It means a lot. To all of us.”  
He stood slightly taller, as if to feign bravery, and swallowed hard.   
“So how did you manage to get caught up with Military Intelligence? Bit of a step up from that old warehouse,” Ellie winked.   
“Oh! Er...it’s a long story,” Ryan said awkwardly, shuffling on the spot.   
“I brought them all along for a bit of company -”  
“ - company experience,” Ryan said, interrupting the Doctor’s response that would only lead to more questions and confusion on Ellie’s part.  
The Doctor pouted at him, before peering at the readings on the Sonic.   
“That’s unusual. I had no idea that was an option,” Ellie said.   
“Yeah, well, the world works in weird ways!” Ryan said nonchalantly.   
“Understatement of the century,” Graham muttered under his breath.   
The Doctor, meanwhile, was growing increasingly anxious at the readings appearing before her. She was chewing her lip subconsciously, so much so that Yaz had to poke her to stop.   
“What’s the matter? You’ve never made that face before,” she said.   
“I’ve never had reason to,” the Doctor said, “But we need to get going. Now.”   
Yaz didn’t need telling twice.  
“Well, it was nice to meet you, Ellie, but we’d best be getting a move on,” Yaz said, doing an impressive show of being cool and collected.   
“Oh!” Ellie said, clearly disappointed, “No worries! But Ry, do you think I could get your number? Would be nice for a proper catch up.”  
Ryan looked at her in gormless shock, unable to form words for so long that Graham resorted to jabbing him in the ribcage.  
“Yes!” Ryan said, so suddenly it was as if he’d been electrocuted, “Defo! That would be great!”  
As he fumbled with getting his phone out of his pocket and nearly dropping it on several occasions, it suddenly gave a strange crackling noise.   
“Oh, not again,” he said frustratedly, trying to put it on silent, “Sorry. It’s been doing that now and again.”  
The Doctor narrowed her eyes at them.   
“That’s weird,” she said, under her breath.   
Ryan just shrugged as the phone fell silent, before saying, “I reckon it’s just a bug with the new update. I finally had the time to download it, and it started doing it for a few seconds. Stopped now, though.”   
As he exchanged numbers with Ellie, growing increasingly flustered, Yaz leaned in to whisper in the Doctor’s ear.   
“Still as dangerous as you imagined?” she murmured.   
The Doctor licked her lips nervously, and swallowed.   
“Slightly worse, if I’m honest with you. But then again, the TARDIS couldn’t read the signals I got from your telly. Which essentially means we’re diving into unknown waters head first.”  
“Good thing you’ve had practise with that, then,” Yaz said jokingly, thinking back to Doctor’s mad act of heroism during the witch trials.  
“True,” the Doctor said, not reading the humour in her tone, “But still. This is gonna be risky.”  
Yaz sighed, before following her instincts and taking the Doctor’s hand.   
“Well, guess we’d better keep our chins up and put our shoulders back, then, if we’re diving into unknown waters,” she said coolly, “And do the best we can.” 

“Chin up, shoulders back. Let’s see what we’re made of, you and I.”

The Doctor found herself smiling, squeezing Yaz’s hand.   
“Quite right, too,” she said quietly.   
Once Ryan had stopped bumbling about with embarrassing ineptitude and eventually exchanged numbers with Ellie, the four of them headed off to Yaz’s flat. The Doctor’s logic was that, considering the first signals emerged around that area, it would be wise to see how much had evolved in the last month.   
“That Ellie girl seemed nice,” Yaz said, attempting to lighten the suddenly severe mood that had descended on them from the Doctor’s clear anxiety.   
“Too right. Made our Ryan a bit hot under the collar, methinks,” Graham teased, nudging his grandson affectionately.  
“Pack it in, Gramps,” Ryan said grouchily, moving out of the hit zone.  
“Oh, someone’s a bit grumpy,” Graham mocked playfully, “Do you like that girl, then, son?”  
“Pack it in,” Ryan repeated, rolling his eyes.   
Yaz exchanged a knowing look with Graham, before smiling cheekily.  
“I’d take that as a roundhouse yes, if you ask me,” she laughed, “But Graham is right - she seemed really nice. Why not ask her out?”  
“Because it’s not that easy,” Ryan huffed, stuffing his hands in his pockets.   
“Ah! So you do like her!” Graham accused, throwing a finger at him comically.   
“No!” Ryan exclaimed, “Yes! I mean - I dunno, alright? She’s always been really, like, nice and everything, but that might just be politeness. Plus I’d be punching above my weight.”  
“I was punching above my weight with my wife, but it didn’t stop me,” the Doctor said casually.   
Yaz, Graham and Ryan all stopped in their tracks, so in sync it was as if someone had pressed the pause button on a running film. The Doctor carried on walking with innocent abandon, before she noticed they had halted. Frowning at them, she put her hands on her hips.  
“What? Seriously, fam, we need to get a move on!” she said impatiently.  
“But - did you just say you have a wife?” Graham spluttered in shock.   
The Doctor’s face was unreadable.  
“Yeah,” she said coolly, “I did have a life before you lot, you know, and you can’t react like the world’s coming to the end every time I drop some info about myself.”  
For Yaz, it felt like the world was coming to an end. The Doctor’s words were like a blow to her heart, and it was with some difficulty that she hastily pulled herself together.   
“Sorry, Doc,” Graham said, resuming his step, “You just never said.”  
“Well, it never came up,” the Doctor said, thoroughly regretting her slip of the tongue.   
“Where is she, then?” Ryan asked, “And is she a Time Lord, or like us?”  
“Ah,” the Doctor murmured, an indecipherable smile on her face, “Now that’s a question.”  
Ryan paused patiently, but the Doctor didn’t say anything else.   
“...so what’s the answer?” he pressed.   
The Doctor sighed, increasing her pace so they couldn’t see her expression.   
“It’s complicated,” she said, “But she’s gone, now. And I’m never going to see her again - which is something I haven’t fully gotten my head around, yet. See, as a time traveller, I never appeared in the right sequence, so it was...well, quite difficult to maintain a relationship. But she was great, River was.”  
“Her name was River?” Graham asked.   
“Yeah,” the Doctor replied softly, a small smile on her face, “River Song.”  
“Doctor,” Yaz asked gently, “Do you mind us asking what happened to her?”  
Graham and Ryan suddenly looked incredibly wary, as if concerned the Doctor was going to react as violently as she did in the library. To their surprise, instead, she took a calming breath, and turned to face them.  
“No, not at all,” she said lightly, “She died saving me, Yaz. Another me, I mean. She never met this me, which is a shame - I reckon she’d like how I turned out.”  
“Oh.”   
That was all Yaz could manage, because she felt her throat constrict. She wasn’t sure if her unchecked emotions were because she had been presented with yet another example of the Doctor’s unimaginable loss, or because the idea of the Doctor having a wife made her physically bristle with jealousy.   
“Yeah,” the Doctor said quietly, “Still! Wouldn’t have changed our time for the world. That’s the thing, you lot - having to lose her was hard, but having her with me more than made up for that loss.” 

“Pain and loss, they define us as much as happiness or love. Whether it’s a world, or a relationship - everything has its time. And everything ends.”

Graham cleared his throat, apparently quite emotional.   
“That’s...that’s very true, Doc,” he nodded, clearly thinking of Grace.   
The Doctor offered them all a small, sad smile, that both broke Yaz’s heart and filled it up at the same time.   
“Now, we really need to get a shift on. To Yaz’s house!” the Doctor declared, marching forward with her arm in the air in mock authority.   
“Here’s hoping there’s tea,” Graham winked, knowing how that idea always brightened the Doctor’s demeanor. He was right, of course.   
“Tea at Yaz’s?” the Doctor exclaimed excitedly, “Oh, brilliant - I love Tea at Yaz’s!”  
“You know, Yaz,” Ryan said to her, as the Doctor bounded ahead with all the grace and enthusiasm as a puppy at dinner time, “I reckon if you’re ever stuck for present ideas, just give her a couple of boxes of Yorkshire Tea to store in the TARDIS. Would make her day.”  
Yaz laughed, shaking her head.  
“But then she’d have no excuse to come round!” she replied.   
“Nonsense, Yaz,” the Doctor said, apparently overhearing them, “So long as you’re there, I’ll always have an excuse to come round.”


	6. A Home is Where the Heart Beats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yaz and Graham discuss her growing feelings for the Doctor, while the Doctor herself figures out the origin of the signal, and follows it head-first.  
> There's a lot of conversation between Yaz and Graham in this chapter - I really like their dynamic - but the clues I've been leaving in previous chapters start to connect, as well. We'll be seeing a familiar enemy in the coming chapters...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really enjoying writing this! It was originally meant to be 10 chapters, but it's now going to be more than that as Team TARDIS face a complicated threat. As always, your lovely comments are keeping me going!  
> If there are any mistakes, I apologise - I usually write in the small hours when I'm sleep deprived.

Chapter Six - A Home is Where the Heart Beats:

Luckily for everyone involved, the flat was empty. Yaz let out a small sigh of relief when she noticed that Sonya’s coat had gone - a sure sign that she was out about about - which meant that she would be spared any uncomfortable questions regarding her relationship with the Doctor.  
One thought still bothered Yaz, however, as she put the kettle on to boil. If the Doctor had been with River in her past regenerations, did her taste in people evolve when she regenerated? Would she still be attracted to women? More importantly, if River was still around, would she still be in love with her, despite her change in biology? Yaz thought she would - after all, the Doctor’s change was only in her appearance, it was only skin deep - therefore, surely, she still harboured the same attractions as her past lives? She was still the same person. But was she even interested in humans? After all, she was a 2000-something-year-old alien genius who had watched time run out; Yaz felt that she could never see anything of importance in humankind. 

“In 900 years of time and space, I’ve never met anyone who wasn’t important.”

Still, Yaz thought to herself, whatever her conflicted feelings for the Doctor were, it was enough just be by her side. It was enough to watch her from afar, to admire the way her eyes would catch fire with delight whenever she saw something of the slightest interest, to smile at the way she bounced about the place with the gangly enthusiasm of an over-excited toddler, and to have several private jokes with Ryan about the amount of times she scrunched up her nose in confusion. Yes, Yaz thought, it was enough to just be in her extraordinary presence. Romance could wait - besides, Yaz had never even considered the possibility of women until she was struck in the heart with the time-travelling enigma.  
Yaz could remember that moment more clearly than most events in her life, her meeting with the Doctor. She had appeared out of nowhere, her hair a mess, that tattered suit looking far too good on her to be fair, and took control of the most insane situation of Yaz’s life. Up until then, that is. Thing is, Yaz wasn’t even looking for anything like her - how could she? The Doctor was indescribable, which was probably why Yaz was having such a difficult time figuring out exactly what she was feeling for her. She was just inexplicably, extraordinarily, outrageously incredible.  
That was it: the Doctor was so incredible that it was almost indecent. She found her endlessly fascinating, even when she wasn’t doing much of anything. Like now, for instance, the Doctor was merely perched on the sofa, kicking her legs distractedly, and yet to Yaz, she was the most interesting thing in the universe.  
“Tea ready yet, Yaz?” Graham asked, “The Doc is getting twitchy.”  
Yaz blinked at him. The kettle had finished boiling and had been idly sat for several minutes - Yaz had clearly been day-dreaming again.  
“Sorry - yeah - won’t be long,” Yaz said, rummaging in the cupboard for some mugs.  
Graham watched her with his eyebrows raised.  
“Say, you alright, Yaz? You’ve been a bit quiet since we got back,” he said, in a low voice so the Doctor and Ryan wouldn’t overhear.  
Yaz sighed, her hand gripping tightly on the cupboard handle.  
“Graham,” she said suddenly, as if surprised she was even saying it, “How did you know Grace was the one?”  
Graham paused thoughtfully, before a look of kind understanding dawned on his face.  
“Well,” he said briskly, “That’s a big question, Yaz. But I guess, at the end of the day, and with all the little things I loved about her, it all boiled down to one thing.”  
“What was that?” Yaz asked.  
Graham sighed, a smile playing on his lips.  
“She was like coming home,” he said softly, “And when I was with her, I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be - like - and this’ll sound crazy - like the lines of the universe had connected us together. Like it was simply meant to be. It’s cliche, I know -”  
“No, it’s not,” Yaz said, stopping him, “I know exactly what you mean.”  
Graham gave a gentle, reassuring smile.  
“Yaz,” he said softly, “I won’t pretend to know what this is about, but I can guess.”  
Yaz felt her face grow warm. Had it been that obvious?  
“Now, Ryan’ll tease you, but that’s all it is - mindless teasing. You know what he’s like. I love him to bits, but he’s oblivious half the time,” Graham chuckled, “But I reckon there’s something more than a little crush going on here. And that’s okay.”  
Yaz bit her lip. She couldn’t believe she was doing this - sharing her feelings about the Doctor with her sitting so close by, in ear shot - but there was something about Graham that made her feel at ease. It was after her visit to the Punjab; something shifted between them when Graham offered his profound words of wisdom, and since then, she found talking to him about serious matters to be immeasurably more easy.  
“I just -” Yaz sighed, her voice cracking slightly, “I don’t know what to think half the time. My brain turns to mush, and I know deep down that nothing will ever come of it, not in a million years, but that doesn’t stop my stupid heart from catching feelings. It’s the most frustrating thing in the world.”  
“Now you listen here,” Graham said, putting his hand on her shoulder, “You can’t choose where you love, or who. The heart is a fickle thing, and it can be a trickster - but more often than not, it knows what you want. Even if you wish it wasn’t true, or if you want to change your mind. You don’t expect to fall in love half the time, but you can’t help it.” 

“You didn’t expect to fall in love. But that’s what happens.”

“I’m not sure if it’s love,” Yaz mumbled, pouring the water in the mugs.  
“Doesn’t matter yet, Yaz,” Graham said wisely, “But I wouldn’t blame you. It’s hard not to love the Doctor, romantically or platonically.”  
Yaz sighed, dumping the tea bags in and watching the colour of the leaves inside bleed into the water with mesmerising ease.  
“But what do I do, Graham?” she said quietly, “I - I don’t know how much longer I can keep my mouth shut. I over analyse everything, and I’m worried that sooner or later, she’ll catch on. And what if everything goes wrong and she kicks me out of the TARDIS because of awkwardness? And what if she -”  
“Hey, enough of this,” Graham interrupted sternly, “There’s no point in dwelling in ‘what if’s’, Yaz, because you’ll only put your life on hold if you do that. Life is for living, not fretting, or constantly thinking about the paths you could have taken. Just live this moment, Yaz, and everything else will fall into place.” 

“I honestly don’t know whether any of us know the real truth of our own lives, because we’re too busy living them from the inside. So just enjoy it, Yaz. Live this moment, and figure it out later.”

“You’re very sure of yourself,” Yaz said, her voice lighter.  
“Yeah, well, I’ve had a good few more decades than you to work this stuff out,” Graham smiled, “But trust me on this one, Yaz. Take things one step at a time - and hey, if all else fails, you could always win her affections with endless tea and biscuits!”  
Yaz laughed as Graham grabbed the packet of custard creams she had bought especially for the Doctor and brandished them like a sword.  
“Very true,” she smiled, “Now, we’d best not keep them waiting. You and I both know what the Doctor is like if she doesn’t get her promised tea.”  
“Right you are,” Graham chuckled, seemingly quite pleased that he’d managed to cheer her up. And he was right - Yaz did feel better. She could wait and figure out the rest in time. Still, that didn’t stop her heart doing that familiar flip when she saw how the Doctor’s face lit up in excitement when she saw the biscuits. That was just something she’d have to get used to. That, and the fact that Graham was right - the Doctor, with the sound of her twin heartbeats, was like coming home.  
“So what’s the story?” Graham asked, as the four of them sat down to assess the situation.  
“I’m not sure yet,” the Doctor said, her voice muffled by a mouthful of biscuit, “But I can guess. Whatever I picked a month ago in Yaz’s flat has spread. I had the Sonic going as we walked over here, and it was picking up the same signal from every direction. I can’t isolate it, and we can’t go back. I need to do some thinking.”  
“It doesn’t exactly seem dangerous, though, whatever it is,” Ryan said.  
“Well, lots of things don’t seem dangerous, Ryan, but it doesn’t mean they aren’t,” the Doctor replied, “I mean, I once encountered a flock of killer bats disguised as teachers in a secondary school. They didn’t seem dangerous at first - the biggest threat were those disgusting chips - but boy, was I wrong. They nearly got hold of the building blocks of the universe.”  
“Right,” Ryan said skeptically, “But if it’s so dangerous, surely you’d know about it?”  
“Do you not remember that Dalek?” Yaz said impatiently, “That had been buried here since the ninth century and nobody noticed it.”  
“Yeah, that’s because it hadn’t been activated yet, or something,” Ryan said defensibly.  
The Doctor’s eyes grew wide.  
“Ryan! Yaz!” she exclaimed, jumping up and nearly knocking over Graham’s tea, “You’re both geniuses!”  
Without stopping to explain, she physically jumped over the coffee table and dived behind the television, and whipped out the Sonic in one smooth movement.  
“Turn the telly on, Yaz!” she ordered, and Yaz immediately sprang into action. She grabbed the remote and switched it on, to where, coincidentally, the news was reporting the outbreak of metal sheets around Sheffield.  
“What’s happening, Doc?” Graham asked, as she began scanning the television again.  
“Ryan and Yaz were spot on,” she explained hurriedly, “Some threats can remain dormant - hidden, almost - so that I wouldn’t notice them. But if I can boost the signal through this television, where the original signal broke through, I can activate it! Force it to come through!”  
“Yeah, but what is it?!” Graham said.  
“Guess we’ll find out soon!” Ryan replied, over the loud noise that was suddenly emitting from the television. It was a loud crackling sound, and it was only getting more vigorous the more the Doctor scanned the Sonic against the wiring. There was something eerily familiar about it.  
“It’s that noise again!” the Doctor shouted over the sound of it, “I knew I recognised it!”  
“Me too!” Yaz gasped, realisation dawning on her face, “Sonya’s phone was doing it earlier!”  
“And mine - mine was doing it when I was talking to Ellie!” Ryan cried.  
“And didn't the TARDIS itself make that noise when we were traveling here? You know, when it was trying to throw you off?” Graham piped up.  
The Doctor nodded, her face contorted in a frown.  
“And in the Library,” she said, her expression dark, “When Strackman tried to contact River. I thought it was static - but it was the exact same sound as the one we’re hearing now.”  
“You mean to say it’s been following us? Across space and time?” Graham exclaimed.  
The Doctor didn’t have time to reply, because the television suddenly burst into flames with an almighty bang. The Doctor dived for cover, since she was the closest, and the fire alarm started screaming as the flames grew and fluttered dangerously close to the curtains.  
“Oh my god!” Ryan yelped, his eyes wide with fear.  
“You blew up my telly!” Yaz shrieked, her hands over her ears.  
“Not the time, Yaz!” the Doctor said, running to the front door.  
“Try telling that to my mother!” Yaz whined, following the Doctor out the door until she saw was she was doing. She had grabbed hold of the communal fire extinguisher, and was brandishing it with a determined look on her face.  
“Out the way!” the Doctor ordered, as Graham and Ryan jumped out of her path.  
Closing her eyes and aiming, the Doctor sprayed the extinguisher over the flaming television.  
Over the sound of the extinguisher, the fire alarm and Ryan’s yelling, the distinct sound of that crackling could be heard. Yaz picked up on this, and looked at Ryan.  
“Your phone - your phone, Ryan!” Yaz cried, grabbing his arm.  
Ryan took a moment to snap into action, before he shoved his hand in his coat pocket - the source of the noise - and threw his phone to Yaz. She caught it with ease, and ran into the singed longue.  
“Doctor!” she called, “Catch!”  
The Doctor looked up as Yaz threw the phone in the air. She caught it one handed, a look of pride crossing her face, before she turned serious.  
“Ryan,” she said, “Keep spraying the telly. Make sure the flames are out.”  
Ryan nodded and took the extinguisher off her, as she took the Sonic to his phone.  
“Please don’t wipe my phone again,” he pleaded worriedly.  
“No promises,” the Doctor said, “And Yaz, is there a way to shut off that alarm? It’s doing my head in.”  
Yaz shook her head.  
“It’s an automatic system,” she said, “Won’t shut off until the threat is gone. That’s flat living, for you - they’ll be evacuating soon.”  
The Doctor growled frustratedly, and pressed the phone to her ear.  
“It’s reaching out,” she muttered, “It couldn’t get through the telly, it was too weak - but this phone...come on, you can do it!”  
“Is she talking to someone?” Graham said, frowning.  
Yaz and Ryan shrugged in unison.  
“Come on, come on,” the Doctor said desperately, “I’m here. I can hear you - you’re so close! Just a little further!”  
She sandwiched the phone between her ear and her shoulder and got hold on the Sonic again, scanning it over the phone to try and boost the signal.  
As she did so, her eyes widened.  
“Pen!” she cried suddenly, “Get me a pen and paper!”  
Instead of scrambling round trying to find any, Yaz pulled her own phone from her pocket and opened the notepad. She placed it in the Doctor’s free hand.  
The Doctor, looking increasingly stressed, held the Sonic between her teeth so she could type quickly.  
“It’s code,” she muttered, her voice impaired by the Sonic, “It’s numbered code. The TARDIS couldn’t translate it because it’s never seen it before. It’s completely, inexplicably, unashamedly brand new!”  
As she typed frantically while the phone crackled away in her ear, Ryan ensured the flames were out, and Yaz surveyed the damage.  
“This’ll be a tough one to explain to my folks,” she swallowed nervously.  
“Just blame it on the Doc,” Graham said, “They’ll be so many questions, they wouldn’t have the energy to question you!”  
“Wanna bet?” Yaz muttered morbidly.  
“I’ve got it!” the Doctor suddenly exclaimed, jumping up in the air with excitement, “Oh, you clever thing!”  
“What’s going on?” Graham asked, completely lost.  
“That signal is a string of numbers,” she said, “Or more specifically, coordinates! I’ve been blind - stupid and blind - the signal was never the threat! It was a calling! A call for help, across all of space and time, following me! And now we can follow it!”  
“Then why did you think it was a threat?” Yaz asked, as the Doctor raced out the door with the three of them hot on her heels.  
“There’s still a threat, trust me,” she replied, “But it’s not that signal. The TARDIS was fighting it because, like me, it thought it was dangerous. It was a foreign pilot. But the signal called us here because it needed us. That crackling sound - that was it, trying to reach us. When I boosted it through Ryan’s phone, it was clear, and rolled out a string of numbers. We need to follow those numbers to find out whoever is calling for help!”  
“But how did they know how to contact you?” Graham asked, slightly out of breath as they raced down the stairs.  
“They didn’t!” the Doctor said, “So they left clues - the signal in the library, millions of years in the future, Ryan and Sonya’s phones, because I’ve been in frequent contact with them, and initially, in Yaz’s flat, because they know it’s an important place for me.”  
Yaz felt herself go red.  
“Yeah, but how did they know all of that? And what’s with the metal things?” Ryan asked.  
“I’m not sure,” the Doctor admitted, “I can only assume it has knowledge of those closest to me - River, you, and Yaz -”  
“Oh, thanks,” Graham grumbled under his breath.  
“ - and so it used you to reach out to me,” the Doctor continued.  
“It must be powerful, then,” Yaz said, as they burst through the block’s doors.  
“Oh, undeniably,” the Doctor said cheerfully, “I mean, it has the power to ground the TARDIS, of all things. We’re in for a treat!”  
As the four of them flew into the TARDIS, the Doctor immediately set about punching in the numbers into the interface, using the note she had taken on Yaz’s phone.  
“These coordinates should take us to them,” she explained, as Yaz, Graham and Ryan looked on in confusion.  
“But you said the TARDIS was grounded?” Graham said, confused.  
“Yeah, but that was them,” the Doctor said quickly, “So I’m assuming, if we’re going somewhere where they want us to be, we’ll be able to take off.”  
“If that’s the case, why not just hack the TARDIS entirely and take us to where they are?” Yaz asked.  
“A good question, Yaz,” the Doctor smiled, “But I highly doubt that many things have that power. It’s one thing to ground the TARDIS, another to pull it through space and time altogether - remember, we’re only one month in the future. It doesn’t take much to achieve that.”  
“If you say so,” Graham mumbled.  
“Besides,” the Doctor continued, “With all these hidden messages and a very convoluted means of asking for help, I’d say they’re operating in secrecy. Blatantly contacting us and dragging the TARDIS right to them would set off alarm bells.”  
“And we still don’t know what they are, or what they want?” Ryan said anxiously.  
“Nope! Isn’t that brilliant!” the Doctor beamed, punching in the last digit with enthusiasm.  
In a split second, the TARDIS quivered, and a blue beam started appearing round the Doctor, and the Doctor alone.  
“Doctor?!” Yaz cried, as a look of panic crossed the Doctor’s face. She made to move forward, but the Doctor held out a hand.  
“Oh, bloody hell. Yaz, I got it wrong!” she said frantically, “This is a transmat beam, which means -”  
She didn’t get a chance to finish, because a second later, she disappeared.


	7. Running After Dear Ones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yaz clashes with Graham as she attempts to run after the Doctor, and finds a surprising ally in Ryan. The Doctor finally discovers just what is giving off the signal, as a devastating threat dawns over Sheffield.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooh things are r e a l l y heating up now! I can't wait to get started on the next few chapters, because Dark Doctor is going to be unleashed in the most terrible way...makes for fun writing :') Either way, this'll be longer than the imagined 10 chapters...  
> Also used quite a few quotes in this chapter :)

Chapter Seven - Running After Dear Ones:

“Doctor?! Doctor!” Yaz cried, flapping her arms in the space the Doctor had left behind, as if half expecting she was able to reach through the vortex and grab her.   
“What the hell?!” Ryan exclaimed.  
“Where - where did she go?” Graham said, horrified.  
“Doctor?! Come back!” Yaz called desperately, fear choking in her throat. She had just vanished - not even leaving a trace - and all Yaz could think about was how the Doctor’s expression had changed from one of unencumbered joy to one of pure panic.   
“Yaz,” Graham soothed, “Yaz, calm down -”  
“Calm down?! Are you kidding me?” Yaz shouted, “The Doctor just disappeared! And we’re stuck here, with some unknown threat from across the universe hurtling towards us and absolutely no way to stop it!”  
“We’ll figure it out,” Graham said firmly, growing concerned about how worked up Yaz was getting, “We managed before in the Punjab, and we’ll manage again.”  
Yaz breathed deeply, trying to quell her frantic heartbeat.   
“But - but what do we do?” she whispered, as if afraid of the answer.   
Graham bit his lip, and swallowed hard. He was trying to be the strong one - Yaz was clearly feeling very intensely because of her new-found romantic feelings towards the Doctor, and Ryan was unable to keep his panic in check at the best of times. But, in truth, he was as lost as the rest of them.  
As it turns out, he didn’t have to try and support them, because the Doctor did just that.   
Out of nowhere, a hologram with the Doctor’s complete likeness appeared before them, glittering in gold and rimmed with TARDIS blue. Ryan jumped about a foot in the air in pure surprise.   
“Don’t tell me that’s a ghost!” Ryan yelped, completely losing his head.   
“No, you idiot,” Yaz hissed, “It’s clearly the Doctor. Or at least, sort of.”  
“Fam, listen up,” the hologram demanded, “If you’re seeing this, that means you’re on your own. For whatever reason, we have been separated. The TARDIS, as I’ve been trying to tell you, is a sentient being, and she will only have activated this protocol if she senses your genuine panic. So here’s what we do: first of all, stop panicking. It’s a wasted emotion and gets us nowhere. Secondly, I don’t know whether I’m alive or dead, but it doesn’t matter - all that matters is that you lot are on your own, and I’m unable to help you. And I’m really sorry for that.”   
“What’s she on about? Is she dead?” Ryan said anxiously.   
“Shush! She’s speaking!” Graham snapped.   
“If I have let you down,” the Doctor-hologram continued, “Then I can’t apologise enough. And if I’m dead, then here’s what you need to do - you can’t let anyone get their hands on the TARDIS. So just...just let her die.”

“Let the TARDIS die. Just let this old box gather dust. No one can open it - no one will even notice it. Let it become a strange little thing standing on a street corner. And over the years, the world will move on, and the box will be buried.”

“But if I’m not dead,” the Doctor-hologram said, to their collective relief, “Then wait for me. I know that, no matter what, I’ll be coming back for you all - especially if you’re in danger. But if I take too long - longer than a few days - then follow the Death Protocol, and close the TARDIS doors for good. But trust me - if there’s a way for me to get back, I’ll be there. Good luck, fam.”   
And with that, the hologram fluttered out of existence.   
The three of them blinked at each other in horror.   
“Is that it?” Yaz said, her mouth open in shock, “Sit and wait, or assume she’s dead? What kind of a ridiculous plan is that?!”  
“That can’t be it - is there a way to replay it?” Graham said, frowning.   
“What good will that do?” Yaz snapped, “She can’t do this to us! She can’t just expect us to wait around idly when she could be in danger!”  
“She could be dead for all we know,” Ryan said mournfully.   
“Don’t say that, son,” Graham said softly, “The Doc is far tougher than we give her credit for.”  
“Yeah, but she’s not indestructible. What if she needs us?” Yaz said desperately, wringing her hands together and pacing back and forth.   
“I think,” Graham said calmly, “That the Doc has clearly exercised her wishes, and give us firm instructions.”   
“What, so we just wait?” Yaz said petulantly, the idea clearly disgusting to her.   
“Yes,” Graham nodded, “Because that’s what she wants. She wants us to trust her, and I don’t know about you lot, but since I owe her my life, she’s more than earned my trust.”  
Yaz clearly had a few choice words to say, but she kept her mouth shut; mainly because she feared if she argued with him, she’d just break down in tears. She felt like she’d been left behind, and logically, while she knew it wasn’t the Doctor’s fault, it stung to know that Doctor didn’t even consider asking for their help. They were just dismissed, expected to sit and wait like well behaved children until she came swooping back into the TARDIS. If she came at all, that is.   
“No,” Yaz said out loud, totally unexpectedly.   
Graham and Ryan looked at her in confusion.   
“What?” Graham frowned.   
“I'm not going to let her face this alone,” Yaz said firmly, “I can't leave her, no matter what.” 

“I'm with you, whatever happens.”

“But we can't do anything, Yaz!” Ryan said exasperatedly, shaking his head, “You saw what just happened - she disappeared into thin air!”   
“And you also heard what the Doc wants us to do in this type of situation,” Graham said firmly, “We owe it to her to follow the rules.”   
Yaz pressed her lips together.  
“Yeah?” she said flatly, “Well, she owes it to us to keep us involved. I don’t care if it’s dangerous - we all knew what we were signing up for.”   
“Yaz, I think you’re overreacting a bit,” Graham said, keeping his voice level so he didn’t rile her any more than she already was.  
Yaz turned to him with the frightening precision of a jungle cat selecting its prey.  
“What did you say?” she said dangerously.   
Impressively, Graham stood his ground, but he looked terrified doing it.   
“You are overreacting,” Graham said firmly, “The Doctor didn’t leave us here on purpose, and while you may not agree with her methods, her main priority is to keep us safe.”   
“We’re not her responsibility - we’re not her kids, for goodness sake!” Yaz asserted.  
“You’re right, we’re not,” Graham nodded, “But we are her family. She’s said it enough times, after all.”   
“And we owe it to her to stay safe,” Ryan piped up, “You know how much she’s lost - her family, her friends, her wife - it would be cruel of use to put ourselves in the firing line and add to that list.”   
Yaz blinked at him.   
“That’s - that’s surprisingly profound of you, Ryan.”   
Ryan shrugged.   
“I’ll ignore your tone of surprise and take that as a compliment, thanks,” he said breezily.   
Yaz took a deep breath, as if weighing up her options. Finally, she shook her head.  
“It’s not enough,” she said decidedly.   
Graham sighed exasperatedly and Yaz went for the console. She picked up her phone, where the Doctor had discarded it on the board, and pulled up her notes. She assumed that, if she plugged in the same series of numbers the Doctor had noted down, she could trigger the transmat beam, too.  
“Yaz, what are you doing?” Ryan said urgently.   
“I’m going to find her,” Yaz said firmly, concentrating on her task.  
“But she asked us to stay put!” Ryan stressed.   
“I don’t care,” Yaz said, almost petulantly, “I have to find her.”  
“You’ll be putting yourself in unnecessary danger!” Graham protested, “And that is the complete opposite of what the Doc would want!”   
“Like I said, I don’t care,” Yaz argued, as she continued typing in the numbers, “The Doctor is worth any dangers I might come across.”

“You and I both know, don’t we, Rose - the Doctor is worth the monsters.”

“Yaz, you’re letting your feelings for the Doc cloud your judgement,” Graham said, speaking quickly to make sure he had the time to say his piece.   
Yaz froze momentarily, her eyes shooting a warning look at him.   
“I don’t know what you mean,” she said coolly, “I’m doing what any decent friend would do - following the Doctor head first in danger - just like she always does.”  
Graham shook his head, his lips pressed together. He moved forward, and gently placed his hand on her wrist to halt her typing.  
“Just stop - for a second, just stop and listen to me,” he said calmly, “People only go so far for their friends, but for the people they dearly love - they would do anything, risk anything, to keep them safe. I mean, I would’ve done absolutely anything for Grace, even taking her place, if it meant that she would be okay. And I would do anything for Ryan, because he’s family -”  
“ - the Doctor is family,” Yaz interrupted, “You said so yourself.”   
Graham almost looked pained at how black and white he had to make himself in order for her to understand.   
“Yes, she is. But you don’t see us chasing after her, with no regard for her instructions,” he said, “Which can mean only one thing, Yaz. You’re going after the Doctor because you love her.”   
Yaz swallowed, not looking him in the eye. She heard Ryan let out a short gasp of surprise from her left, but she didn’t have time for that. Not just yet.   
“We all love her. You know that. You said so - you said it’s impossible not to love the Doctor,” Yaz murmured, as if trying to convince herself.   
Graham sighed, his hand still on her wrist.   
“You’re right,” he nodded, “Of course you’re right. But please, consider this - you mustn’t let the matters of the heart interfere with matters of the brain.”   
“But that’s the opposite of what you said earlier!” Yaz protested, raising her voice, “You told me that the heart knows what it wants! If I listened to my brain right now, of course I’d stay put! But - but I’m not that kind of person!”   
“I know, but -”   
“Let her go, Gramps,” Ryan suddenly piped up, his voice low.   
Graham and Yaz both looked at him in surprise.   
“What - what are you on about?” Graham said incredulously.  
“I said let her go,” Ryan replied, stepping forward, “Because consider this, Granddad. If it was Gran, you’d follow her without a second thought.”  
Graham opened his mouth to argue, but then closed it again, shaking his head. Ryan moved closer, and put his hand on Graham’s arm, encouraging him to loosen his gentle hold on Yaz’s wrist.   
“C’mon, Gramps,” he said softly, “You know what it’s like.”   
Graham pressed his lips together again, clearly struggling.   
“I - I just don’t want anything to happen - to either of you,” he said heavily, “And the Doc - if anything happened to Yaz, or to any of us, she’d never forgive herself.”  
“I know,” Ryan nodded, “But like you said - you go further than you’d think possible for the people you dearly love. The Doctor would understand that.”  
Defeated, Graham let go of Yaz’s arm. Ryan squeezed his shoulder in comfort, and smiled at Yaz.   
“You go get her, Yaz,” he nodded encouragingly, “But leave your phone. If you take too long, we’re running right behind you.”   
Yaz, whose face was caught halfway between gratitude and apprehension, took a deep breath, and entered the last digit of the coordinates. A second later, the TARDIS shivered, as blue energy started appearing around her.   
“Good luck!” Ryan called, “Don’t you get yourself killed!”   
All Yaz could manage in response was a sincere smile, before she had disappeared. 

 

The Doctor was aching. She had landed rather awkwardly on her side, her arm trapped under her body, and now she winced every time she moved it. Grumbling to herself as she went, she had made it down a narrow corridor, and was now trying to follow the electrical signatures displayed on the Sonic.   
“This place is like a maze,” she muttered to herself, holding her arm in place in the only position where it didn’t hurt, “And that transmat beam...I should’ve known. Getting rusty.”   
Wincing, she wandered down the corridor - which looked like a metal tunnel, as if some great machine had chiseled through hunks of silvery alloy - and hoped all the while that she would find the sender of that signal. The whole situation was severely peculiar, though. For starters, anything that could pilot the TARDIS without her express permission was worrying. In actual truth, she was still confused about the facts.  
“Right,” she said to herself, “What do I know so far?”   
If anything, talking to herself helped fill the deafening silence; the only sound she could make out, apart from her rapid breathing, was a slight, barely audible beeping sound.   
“I picked up an odd signal from Yaz’s telly - something they placed because they understood that her flat is an important place for me. I followed it, but the TARDIS didn’t recognise it. Is that because it’s never seen it before, or because the signal wasn’t strong enough then?” she muttered, “But then again...the signal was obviously strong enough to take us one month in the future - which is why the TARDIS reacted so badly. So was she sensing danger in the future, or was she just trying to shake off the other pilot? Yet those metal things - that’s just not right, and there’s still some worrying signs - and more importantly, who has the capacity and know-how to send a signal like that?”   
Rounding the corner, the Doctor kept her eyes glued to the Sonic, while continuously muttering to herself.   
“Even more importantly, what has that capacity to send messages to me millions of years in the future? And how does it know me so well that it figured out River and I were close?” she frowned, “And all this secrecy...Yaz was right, it would have been easier just to send a clear message that didn’t need boosting. Why didn’t they do that? I can understand why they couldn’t pilot the TARDIS entirely, but still - something doesn’t add up.”   
Growling to herself in frustration - from the lack of understanding and the insistent pain which she isolated to her wrist - the Doctor found herself face to face with a large, circular door.   
“A great, big, threatening door,” she hummed, “How interesting.”  
She approached it without caution, and cocked her head to one side, a crease appearing between her eyebrows.  
“The polite thing to do would be to knock,” she shrugged. And with that in mind, she held up her fist and rapped at the door four times.   
“‘He will knock four times’,” she said dramatically, before smiling to herself in amusement.   
To her great surprise, the door began to ease open, rolling on its side, like the entrance to a great tomb. The light that was slowly seeping through was a piercing blue, nothing like the comforting and familiar shades of the TARDIS, but freezing, foreign and penetrative. The Doctor had to screw up her eyes against it, as bars of light forced their way into the space, creeping from the ever-growing entrance and flooding the tunnels. The light cast unpleasant shadows up and down the curved ceiling and walls, running amok like ethereal spirits released to wreak havoc. It was blinding, and to the Doctor’s surprise, cold, as if the light itself carried with it an icy breath to ward off any unwelcome visitors.   
“Alright, you’ve made your point!” the Doctor called, shielding her eyes, “Turn the lights off, yeah? I’d quite like to see you, after all those complicated messages.”  
She was met with silence - save the low beeping sound - and the chamber continued to flood with light. It bled like ink in water, spreading all over the walls like a thick, blue paint, and covering the Doctor along with the walls. The half-hearted yellow light of the Sonic was soon lost in the pastel blue, despite the Doctor still firmly pressing her finger on the button, and soon, the light was so intense that no shape could be made out. It was blinding.  
The Doctor didn’t know when she passed out, but she suspected it had happened before she even hit the floor. 

 

“Oh, for goodness sake,” the Doctor moaned, when she eventually stirred. She sat up too quickly, dizzying her head, and hissed in pain. She had been leaning on her sore wrist again, and whoever or whatever had moved her clearly had no regard for her positioning. She blinked, her eyes getting used to the absence of blinding blue light, and soon realised she was no longer in the metal tunnels.   
“We regret rendering you unconscious,” came a cold, mechanical voice, “But you were generating too much noise. You must remain undetected.”  
“Must I?” the Doctor grumbled, getting to her feet and scrambling in her pockets for the Sonic.   
“We have removed your Sonic device,” the voice continued crisply, “As it is a continuous source of noise, we cannot allow you to keep it on your person.”   
“Well, I’ll be wanting it back in one piece,” the Doctor warned, “And who’s ‘we’? Why can’t I see you?”   
She heard the sound of several footsteps clanging on the metal floor, suspiciously in sync and disturbingly familiar. Each footstep sounded like a steam-powered piston, marching with mechanical precision and acute certainty.   
The Doctor felt her lips part just a hair as three figures came into focus. She imagined, if Yaz or one of the others was with her, they would comment on how she looked, because the Doctor was certain that all the colour had just drained from her face.   
“No,” she whispered, fear and bile rising in her throat, “No. Don’t you dare.”   
At six feet tall apiece, their curled, metal fists firmly pressed against their chests, their empty, unwelcoming eyes consuming the scene before them, stood three figures the Doctor didn’t think she could forget - not in a million lifetimes. Unmistakably, insultingly, gloriously - they stood there, considering her with caution and wonder.   
“Not again. Not again,” the Doctor whispered, her hands shaking. 

“It's happening again. I've seen them before.”  
“What are they?”  
“Cybermen.”


	8. The Science of Feeling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor comes face to face with a new generation of Cybermen, and finds out what they're plotting. Yaz tracks down and confronts the Doctor on the instructions she left them with, and their relationship is tested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Entering* Angry Doctor and Thasmin hugs!  
> This chapter is pretty lengthy but it's finally when everything comes together and we find out why the Cybermen were seeking out the Doctor. Also, Yaz takes none of the Doctor's shit :')  
> 'It was a hazard, to love the Doctor'.

Chapter Eight: The Science of Feeling:

“No!” the Doctor boomed, jumping back several feet, “No - don’t you dare take a single step towards me - don’t you dare!”   
“Desist. Desist,” one of the Cybermen commanded, stepping closer towards her.   
Alarmed, the Doctor frantically searched for the Sonic, and, on remembering that they had taken it, cursed under her breath.   
“You stay away from me,” she growled, “Honestly, first Daleks, now you lot! Why don’t you just stay dead?!” 

“Rid the universe of your filth - why don’t you just die?!”

“We are not what you think,” the Cyberman said tonelessly. This one was presumably the leader - it was made of a lighter coloured metal, still silver, but it had more of a sheen to it. They all followed an older model, almost identical to the ones the Doctor fought at Canary Wharf, but they were slimmer, more streamline, almost. Definitely upgraded.   
“Oh, you’re not, are you?” the Doctor snapped, her teeth gritted, “Then why are you following the same model as the ones who fought me, all those years ago, and took away one of the most important people in my life?!”   
“Your anger is misplaced. We are changed,” the Cyberman replied.   
The Doctor let out a very cold, cynical laugh. It was truly chilling, and while the Cybermen were metal through and through, it was said that even they felt the cold of that laughter.   
“‘Changed’? ‘Changed’?!” she shouted, “Oh, that’s wonderful then, isn’t it?! All crimes must be forgiven, then, obviously! My mistake!”   
The Cybermen in front of her, while void of emotion, seemed to emit some sort of confusion.   
“We called you here,” another said, “We called the Doctor.”   
The Doctor, who was visibly shaking by now - though not in fear, but anger - held up her arms and spread them open.   
“Well, you found me!” she shouted, “So do your worst, yeah? I’ve defeated you more times than I can count, even after you took her, and even after you took Bill - I still have the capacity to carry on and rid the universe of every last stinking one of you!”   
“We detect anger,” one noted.   
“Oh, congratulations!” the Doctor snorted, “Maybe you have changed, then - you’re able to detect basic human emotion!”   
“You are not human.”   
The Doctor lowered her arms, her eyes flashing dangerously.   
“No,” she agreed, her voice soft, “No, I’m not. But I still feel - I’ve felt more than most. More than you can ever imagine.” 

“I have seen things you wouldn’t believe. I have lost things you will never understand.” 

“We do not require feelings,” the Cyberman said, “That is why we came here.”   
The Doctor shook her head, disbelief flitting across her face.   
“We all require feelings, as you so robotically put it,” she murmured, “Even if they hurt, and everyone knows they nearly always do. They’re troublesome, they cloud your logic, they break your heart - probably more than people do - but without them, we’re nothing. We become like you. And I’ve seen you - I’ve seen the metal heart of you - and there’s just nothing there. What living creature would seriously choose to live without feeling? What’s the point?”   
“No pain. We do not have a concept of pain. That is why,” the Cyber-leader replied.   
The Doctor pressed her lips together, and swallowed a lump in her throat.   
“I’ve been in pain for the best years of my life,” she said quietly, “But that is the point - they were the best. Despite everything. They were - and are - the best years of my life.”  
When none of the Cybermen said anything else, the Doctor buried her hands in her pockets. Her mind was ticking away under the surface, and a frown suddenly crept onto her face.   
“Hang on,” she said, “Why did you say you came here?”   
The Cyber-leader stepped forward again, its hand on its chest.   
“Because we do not feel. It was decided that, on account of that fact, that we would integrate successfully on this planet.”   
The Doctor blinked at them, a look of morbid understanding building behind her eyes.   
“What?” she said, growing increasingly concerned.   
“It was decided that Earth was the most suitable of the planetary bodies to integrate into, for the native population do not feel, as we do. We would fit,” it explained.   
“But - but that’s absurd,” the Doctor whispered, “Your calculations are far off the mark! The human-race are the most empathetic creatures I have ever had the pleasure of coming across! They feel more powerfully and collectively than any other species this side of the solar system - and I’d know. I travelled with the best of them! And what constantly strikes me, more than their bravery - or stupidity, if we’re being honest - is their capacity for love! For kindness! My friends inspire me every single day for that tiny, basic, human fact. Whoever sent you here was dead wrong, and you’re going to pay dearly for it.”  
“Cyber Control is never wrong,” the Cyber-leader stated, “They analysed the leaders of your world, and concluded a distinct lack of emotion. We were deemed fit to arrive here to confirm that.”   
“So you’re a recon team,” the Doctor concluded, “And once you’ve gathered data - however ridiculous it is - you’ll pop back to your friends up there and start up a full-fledged invasion, is that it?”  
“It is not an invasion. It is an integration. We wish to learn,” the Cyber-leader said.   
“Integrate?!” the Doctor exploded, “Look at yourselves! You’re just a pathetic, metal imitation of human life! You’d never fit - and why would you want to?”  
“We are changed,” the Cyber-leader repeated, “We wish to evolve. We wish to be apart of a new race, away from past upgrades.”   
“You’re still Cybermen,” the Doctor hissed, “So despite being changed, I’m willing to bet my impressive collection of hats that you still convert humans to create the abominations stood here before me.”   
“We convert the sinners,” one said.   
The Doctor looked outraged, slapping her hands against her sides and wincing when she remembered the state of her wrist.   
“‘Sinners’?! What - you have a concept of religion now?” she growled.   
“We do not. But we understand humankind’s concept of morality. We convert the humans who deserve it.”   
“And who are you to make that call?!” the Doctor cried incredulously.   
“We are superior,” one said simply.   
The Doctor shook her head, a dark smile on her face. Pacing back and forth, she kept her eyes glued to the Cybermen.  
“So let me get this straight in my head,” she said, “You take humans who you believe - according to Earth’s law - have done wrong, and convert them into Cybermen. Then, using the very people you wish to integrate with, plan to live alongside humanity, just for the sake of evolution?”   
“That is correct.”   
“But why?” the Doctor asked exasperatedly, “Why would you want to do that?”   
“We wish to learn. By gathering data from the species we were born from, we can improve.”  
“This is the stupidest plan I’ve ever heard,” the Doctor groaned, slapping her forehead.   
“It is what Cyber Command requests,” the Cyber-leader said.   
“Well, can’t argue with that, then,” the Doctor said sarcastically, “Can you put me in contact with Cyber Command? I’d like a few words.”  
“We cannot.”  
“Huh?” the Doctor glared, “Why not?”  
“We lost contact. Three weeks ago.”   
The Doctor threw her head back and let out a throaty groan of frustration.   
“How in the blazes did you manage that?! I thought you were meant to be ‘superior’?!”   
“We did not come as a unit of three. We came as a unit of eight. But five of our kind have broken away and rebelled. They severed our contact.”   
“But you’re Cybermen - you’re not programmed to rebel,” the Doctor frowned, “You’re essentially clones of each other - you’re literally made to follow orders! It should be against your very nature to rebel!”   
“It is also against our nature to request help. But we are requesting help. That is why we called you.”  
The Doctor blinked at them, her mouth open in shock.   
“Why on earth would I help you?” she snarled, “You’ve always been my enemies! And after what you’ve taken from me, too - how dare you ask me for help!”   
“Because we are changed. The rebels are a threat to this planet, and the Doctor knows how to stop them” the Cyber-leader responded.  
“Well why can’t you stop them? They’re your kind, after all,” the Doctor snapped.   
“We need help to stop them,” one of them stated.   
The Doctor, who was running her undamaged hand through her hair, was breathing quickly. She was incredibly on edge, trying to work out if they were being honest or not, and wondering if she actually had it in her to help the very beings who had already stolen so much from her.   
“What - what are they planning?” she eventually managed, her voice quivering.   
“We do not know.”  
“Brilliant,” the Doctor said sarcastically, “Proper helpful, that.”  
“We do not know the details,” the Cyber-leader continued, “We are aware that they protest to this integration. They are an infected batch. Instead of integration, they aim for invasion. They wish to take over the planet.”  
“Typical Cybermen behaviour, then,” the Doctor muttered, “But it should be easy enough to find them. I’m assuming you’re only in Sheffield because you’ve been reading my movements - and even in a city this large, I reckon that a few metal men would be spotted without much difficulty. The human race do like to point and shout at the unknown, after all.”  
“They will not see us. We are disguised.”   
The Doctor raised her eyebrows.   
“Oh? How? Fake moustaches and glasses?” she asked. While she was tense, she couldn’t deny that her interest had been piqued at the idea of a new generation of Cybermen.   
“We do not just convert the body. We convert the cells,” the Cyber-leader explained, “Therefore, we can change every fibre of the frame to become whatever figure we wish. We are the Chameleon Cybermen.”  
“How do you do that?” the Doctor whispered, in awe.   
“The cells of the human are threaded with our Cyber technology. We can then imitate the human we convert, or infiltrate their psyche to take the shape of other humans. Observe.”   
The Cyber-leader held out a metal hand, and, as if it was disintegrating, tiny metal beads replaced the solid digits of each thick finger. As the hand got displaced and the fragments hovered in the air, they changed, one by one, into the flesh. Piece by piece, the Cyber-leader’s metal hand became a human one, stitched together by genius Cyber-technology, and fitted itself on the end of the metal arm.   
The Doctor’s eyes were wide with interest, and she took several steps towards it.   
“That’s fascinating,” the Doctor breathed, using her index finger to gently trace the new human hand attached to the arm of the Cyber-leader.  
“We can convert the full frame,” the Cyber-leader explained, as the hand transformed into metal once more, “Therefore the rebels will have performed as expected, and are now walking amongst humankind as their peers.”  
“And I’m assuming - though this a wild stab in the dark - that one or two of these metal fragments has been stalking me across time and space? Feeding back to you?” the Doctor asked.  
“Correct. We have been following your movements in order to send the signal. But we were required to do so undetected, so -”  
“ - so the rebels wouldn’t catch on and stop you,” the Doctor nodded, “I was right! Yay! - But hang on - why didn’t the rebels just dispose of you?”   
“They are infected to the point of rebellion,” the Cyber-leader responded, “But not to the point of treason. They cannot destroy us.”   
The Doctor nodded slowly, the facts knitting together in her head.   
“That makes sense,” she said quietly, “It’s a feat that they’re able to rebel at all, but killing their own kind is impossible for them.”   
“It should impossible for most beings,” the Cyber-leader concluded.   
“Huh, you’d think,” the Doctor said grimly, “I guess you really don’t know much about humankind, after all.”   
“Or Time Lords.”   
The Doctor winced, lifting her head slowly and dangerously to look the Cyber-leader dead in the blackness of its eyes.   
“I’d be very careful if I were you,” she growled.   
“Our data concludes that the Doctor committed a double genocide. One that included the extinction of your own race, known as the Time Lords. Correct?”   
“It is of no importance,” the Doctor said icily, “You asked for help, and I’ll help you. But do not cross me. It might be the last thing you ever do.”   
Out of nowhere, and interrupting the throbbing tension, came a voice that the Doctor instantly recognised.   
“Doctor?” Yaz called, her voice laced with anxiety, “Doctor - where are you?”   
“Intruder detected,” one the Cybermen announced, immediately arming itself.  
“No!” the Doctor bellowed, her voice teeming with authority, “Lay a single metal finger on her, and I’ll destroy you where you stand!”   
“You would risk the entire operation if you disposed of us,” the Cyber-leader said.   
The Doctor offered a grim smile.   
“Don’t be so arrogant as to assume that I need you,” she spat, “But I mean it. Hurt her, and I’ll wipe you off the face of the universe.”   
The Cyberman, who had its arm raised ready to shoot, looked to its leader for instruction. When nothing was given, the arm was slowly lowered.   
“Good,” the Doctor said calmly, “Now let me go and get her. She’s my friend.”   
“You will return,” the Cyber-leader ordered.   
“Yes, I will,” the Doctor said impatiently, “But let me find her first.”   
The Cyber-leader didn’t say anything, but it marched over to the far wall, and raised its hand. It pressed it against the flat of the wall, and that familiar blue light stretched from a hidden panel. Then, as if it was cracking, the wall split open to reveal the round passage-way the Doctor had been stumbling around.  
“Thank you,” the Doctor said, “And when I come back, don’t knock me out again, yeah? And give me the Sonic.”   
One of the other Cybermen approached her and handed back her trusty Sonic. Taking it begrudgingly, the Doctor stuffed it in her coat pocket, before taking off in search of Yaz. Her hearts were pounding - if the TARDIS had performed as instructed, Yaz and the others should be waiting for her. There was no reason for Yaz to be here, but she had obviously figured out what triggered the transmat beam and had followed her shortly after. The Doctor wasn’t sure if she was angry or impressed.   
“Yaz!” she shouted, her voice echoing about the passage, “Can you hear me?”  
“Doctor?! You’re alive!” she heard, “I’m here - where the hell are you? I’ve been going round in circles!”   
“Stay where you are!” the Doctor shouted back, “I can follow your heat signature on the Sonic!”  
“Alright!”   
Increasing her pace, the Doctor kept her eyes on the Sonic. Yaz wasn’t far, since the sequence of tunnels was quite small, but she was still a fair distance.   
The Doctor was running by now, growing worried that Yaz might get into some danger - after all, the Cybermen were not a friendly species - and the more she thought about Yaz disobeying her, the angrier she got. It wasn’t out of disdain, but out of anxiety. Yaz had quickly found her way into the walls of her hearts, and she would be hard to shift if anything happened to her. The Doctor would never forgive herself. Honestly, she shouldn’t have been surprised. Her companion’s capacity for bravery in her name was really quite amazing - first, she had Rose opening the heart of the TARDIS to get to her, then Martha trekking across the entire Earth to save her life, and now she had Yaz refusing her strict instructions and jumping head-first into an unknown transmat beam. It was a hazard, to love the Doctor.  
“Well, I sure know how to pick them,” the Doctor muttered to her herself fondly.   
Rounding the corner at top speed, the Doctor nearly ran into her.   
“Doctor! Oh, am I glad to see you!” Yaz cried, her face alight with relief.  
“Yaz, what in the hell are you doing here?!” the Doctor shouted, harsher than she intended, “I explicitly told you to wait in the TARDIS, so what -”  
The Doctor was cut off when she was assaulted with warmth. Yaz, totally unexpectedly, had thrown her arms around her. She felt her shaking, her arms tightly woven around her neck, with her face buried in the nook between her neck and her shoulder.   
Gingerly, the Doctor raised her good arm and stroked her back, before hugging her tightly.  
“I thought you were dead,” Yaz managed, her voice thick. It was then the Doctor realised that Yaz was trembling because she was crying.   
“Hey, don’t be silly,” the Doctor soothed gently, instantly regretting her harsh tone, “You know me. Takes a lot to bring me down.”   
“But you just disappeared! And - and your bloody TARDIS just told us to stay put! We didn’t know what had happened!” Yaz choked, still clinging onto her, as if afraid she’d disappear again.  
The Doctor didn’t know what to say. She felt something horribly familiar stir in the pit of her stomach - it was guilt, she was sure of it - but it was hard to identify, because it was mixed up with something else: fondness.   
Yaz still hadn’t loosened her grip. The Doctor didn’t think she would, so slowly, gently, she eased away from her. She didn’t release her completely, however, as she kept her good arm on Yaz’s shoulder in comfort. Looking at her face, streaked with tears and her eyes filled the promise of more, the Doctor felt winded.   
“I’m sorry, Yaz. I really am,” she said softly, “I didn’t know it was a transmat beam, and the TARDIS only did what it was set up to do. I didn’t mean to alarm you.”   
“‘Alarm me’?” Yaz stuttered, wiping at her eyes, “Doctor, I’m furious with you! You just left us!”  
“Not on purpose,” the Doctor said defensibly.   
“But your message! Fat lot of good that was!” Yaz snarled.   
The Doctor felt a twinge of annoyance.   
“It was only a precaution, Yaz,” she said firmly, “And yeah, fat lot of good it was, since you disobeyed it.”   
“Well what else was I meant to do?!” Yaz snapped, furious at herself when more tears made their way from her eyes.   
“You were meant to wait! Clearly!” the Doctor argued.   
“For what? What if you never came back? I couldn’t just sit and wait for you! What if you died?!”   
“Then I would have died - life goes on, Yaz,” the Doctor said harshly, “And you’d all have to carry on without me.”   
“It wouldn’t be a life without you in it!” Yaz shouted, “I don’t think you quite understand the impact you’ve had on us, Doctor - it may be a hobby for you, dragging us along on all your adventures, a little side-project to distract you from whatever is going on in that head of yours - but to us, you’re the centre of our lives! You’re everything to us! And if you just disappeared, we’d be more lost than you could ever imagine!”   
The Doctor, once again, didn’t know what to say. She dropped her hand from Yaz’s shoulder, her eyes lowered in shame.  
“I know that we’re just the next in a long line of people to stem your so-called loneliness,” Yaz continued ranting, not thinking, “And I know we’ll never mean as much to you as you do to us. But what you did - that message - it was selfish, it was cheap, and it was dismissive. That was you. I thought we were worth more than that to you, Doctor.”  
The Doctor felt her lower lip quiver in emotion. She swallowed hard, unable to look Yaz in the eye, and fiddled subconsciously with the lining of her coat.   
Yaz, on noticing the Doctor’s expression, suddenly realised what she said. Her face softened, contorted with guilt.   
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, “I didn’t mean it like that -”  
“If you’d rather I just fly away,” the Doctor said hollowly, “Then I will. I’ve done it enough times.”  
“No - no, that isn’t what I meant,” Yaz asserted, “I just meant that the whole stunt...well, it made me feel small. Like we weren’t that important to you.”   
“Trust me, Yaz, that was not the intention,” the Doctor muttered flatly, “I just want to keep you three safe.”  
“I know,” Yaz said, moving forward and taking the Doctor’s hands in apology, “I know you didn’t mean it, but - wait, are you alright?”   
Yaz was concerned because, when she took the Doctor’s hands, she had winced in pain.  
“It’s nothing,” the Doctor said, her teeth gritted from the discomfort her wrist was causing her.  
“Doctor,” Yaz said sternly, “What’s wrong?”   
The Doctor sighed, and reluctantly offered Yaz a look at her wrist.   
“I fell on it. Transmats are never a comfortable experience, after all,” she mumbled.   
Yaz’s face flooded with concern as she touched it, ever so gently, so as not to cause more pain, and bit her lip.   
“It’s really quite swollen,” she said worriedly, “Might be sprained. Be careful with it, alright? Until we can ice it.”   
“Turns out I’m not very careful with things. Especially with your feelings,” the Doctor muttered, under her breath.   
“What was that?” Yaz asked.   
“Doesn’t matter,” the Doctor said, shaking her head, “Now come on - I’d best introduce you to my new partners in crime.”


	9. The Fury of the Time Lord

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title says it all, really. The Doctor gets angry, like super angry, and Yaz has to deal with it.  
> Also did someone say 'Hello Sweetie'???
> 
> 'I swear to every perceivable deity in time and space that I will rip you apart, limb from limb, until I force you to feel the pain you’ve fought so hard to remove!'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooooh okay so angry Doctor is something we need in series 12 and I'm SO READY for it.  
> Also Yaz's gay heart gets sad when she realises the Doctor has a v dark side.

Chapter Nine - The Fury of the Time Lord: 

As the Doctor explained just what the Cybermen were and what they were planning - though she left out the more gruelling details of her past with them - the pair made their way to the circular door where the Cybermen were waiting.  
“So we’re actually going to team up with robots who murder people under the pretence of upgrading?” Yaz said worriedly.  
“Yep!” the Doctor replied casually, “I mean, it sounds bad when you put it like that - and you’re not wrong - but this way, we’ll save a lot more people. Of course, I can’t allow this so-called integration to go ahead anyway, but we’ll worry about that later.”  
“Did you find out what those metal things were?” Yaz asked, as they approached the door.  
“No!” the Doctor gasped, as if amazed by her own forgetfulness, “I did not! Ah, what you I do without you, Yaz?”  
“Probably be less anxious - one less thing to worry about, if you think about it,” Yaz said darkly.  
“True. But I’d be a lot more miserable.”  
Yaz would be lying if she said her heart hadn’t skipped at those words.  
Her heart skipped again - but this time in fear - when they found themselves face to face with the Cybermen. The Doctor looked sideways out of the corners of her eyes and saw just how disturbed Yaz was looking, and bit her lip in worry.  
“Did - did you say they were once people?” Yaz whispered, her voice trembling.  
“Yes,” the Doctor nodded gravely, “I’m sorry.”  
“Right. Okay. That’s - that’s fine,” Yaz stuttered.  
Sensing her fear, the Doctor reached out with her good hand, and took Yaz’s hand in hers. Yaz looked at her, an expression of gratitude flitting over her features, and squeezed her hand tightly.  
“Yasmin Khan, meet the Chameleon Cybermen,” the Doctor announced, as they approached them.  
“This is my friend, Yasmin Khan, but her friends call her Yaz,” the Doctor addressed the Cybermen, as she led Yaz by the hand, “So you’d do well to remember that. And like I said, so much as touch her, and I’ll obliterate you. You got that?”  
Yaz looked at the Doctor, and swallowed. She had no idea she’d go so far for her.  
“Understood,” the Cyber-leader confirmed, “But we cannot account for the decisions and actions of the rebels.”  
“Yeah, yeah,” the Doctor said breezily, “But now! We need to get down to business - where do we start?”  
“We begin with securing the movements of the rebels,” the Cyber-leader said, “We are able to scan and identify them.”  
“Why haven’t you done that already, then? Why wait for me?” the Doctor said exasperatedly.  
“We cannot do this without alerting the rebels.”  
“So what do you want me to do about it?” the Doctor demanded, “You ask for my help, but it reality, it seems as though you need me to do all the work.”  
“Incorrect. One in our unit would accompany you,” the Cyber-leader replied, “We would scan and identify the rebels among the native species, without the detection of the rebels.”  
The Doctor screwed up her nose in confusion.  
“But you just said that you couldn’t identify them without them detecting you,” she said impatiently.  
“You would serve as the perfect disguise,” the Cyber-leader said, “All races are aware of the Time Lord known as the Doctor, the Oncoming Storm, the -”  
“Alright, we get it,” the Doctor interrupted testily. She didn’t want Yaz knowing any more than she had to with regards to her past - after all, the pages of the Doctor’s life were splattered with blood.  
“So you’ll use me to cover you. After all, they’ll know that I’m their enemy,” the Doctor nodded, “So when they do detect alien signals, they’ll assume they’re from me, not you. But why does that matter? Surely they know that you’ll aim to stop them.”  
“It is possible that, with the loss of connection, that Cyber Command has been compromised. The rebels could request our execution should we directly confront them.”  
“But that’s purely speculative,” the Doctor frowned, “Besides, wouldn’t it be simpler to try and secure communications with Cyber Command? Would save us all a lot of running around.”  
“They would detect us,” the Cyber-leader responded, “Our calculations speculate a 76% chance that Cyber Command has been compromised. With our potential execution from Command, there would be no way to halt the rebel invasion.”  
The Doctor drummed her fingers on her chin, a frown screwing up her face.  
“Well, that makes sense. The rebels can’t kill you without expressed orders from Command,” she admitted, “But it’s a very shaky operation based on speculation. There is no proof that this loss of signal has anything to do with Cyber Command being compromised.”  
“Is this a risk you are willing to take?” the Cyber-leader challenged.  
The Doctor chewed her lip, before turning to Yaz.  
“Yaz, what do you reckon?” she whispered, her eyes wide.  
Yaz looked very taken-aback.  
“What? You’re asking for my advice?” she stuttered.  
“Of course!” the Doctor replied, “It’s your planet, after all - it’s your home. So it’s your decision, when we get down to the nuts and bolts of it.”  
Yaz swallowed nervously. She wasn’t sure if she wanted that responsibility.  
“What are the options?” she asked nervously.  
“In a nutshell,” the Doctor said hastily, “These Cybermen want to help stop the invasion - or so they say. There are two ways to do this without antagonising the rebels. The first is to team up with us, and use me as a red herring while they find and apprehend the rebels. The second is to try and secure lost communications with Cyber Command and request help, but there’s a high chance that it’s been compromised by the rebels. So what do you say?”  
Yaz closed her eyes in thoughts, pressing her lips together.  
“So we either team up with robotic psychopaths to save the world, or try and get in contact with even more superior robotic psychopaths to save the world?” she murmured.  
“That about sums it up, yeah,” the Doctor said uncomfortably, rubbing the back of her head.  
Yaz took and deep breath, and nodded once.  
“The first option,” she said firmly, “It’s bloody terrifying, but the best bet. This way, we can keep an eye on all these Cybermen things. And there’s less risk - like they said, if their Command has been taken over, we don’t stand a chance if we try and get their attention.”  
The Doctor’s face split into a radiant smile.  
“Yasmin Khan, you are incredibly brave and wise beyond your years,” the Doctor beamed, before turning back to the Cybermen and leaving Yaz with a warm, happy feeling in her chest.  
“You can come with us,” the Doctor said, “But you have to follow my orders. If we’re going to stop them, we need both Cyber and Time Lord technology.” The Doctor shuddered at that thought, her expression looking as though she’d just taken a bite into a rotten apple.  
“Understood. One of us will accompany you in disguise,” the Cyber-leader said. It jerked its head to the right, and one of the other Cybermen marched forward. It thrust out its hand, a tiny metal speck shooting from its palm, and the Doctor felt a sharp pain in the nape of her neck.  
“Ouch!” she hissed, jerking slightly, “What was that?”  
“One of our nanobots,” the Cyber-leader stated, “To maintain communication. It syncs to your psyche so you are able to inform us of your movements.”  
“Can’t you ask your buddy to do that?” the Doctor asked, rubbing her neck where the bot had attached itself. It wasn’t noticeable, for the tiny bot had buried itself under her skin, and was settled at the top of her spine.  
“It is insurance,” the Cyber-leader said.  
The Doctor clicked her neck, and shrugged.  
“Can’t argue with that. Now, who’s coming along with us? I’m guessing it’s the one who just zapped me with a baby Cyberman, yeah?” she said nonchalantly.  
The said Cyberman stepped forward, and thumped its fist to its chest.  
“I’m gonna name you Handles! Well, Handles II,” the Doctor said cheerfully, “In the name of an old ally.”  
“My allocation is C-C 078 -”  
“ - Handles II!” the Doctor interrupted, with a smile on her face, “You’re good ol’ Handles II, and I reckon you’ll fit right in with the fam! After you’ve disguised yourself, that is.”  
“I will disguise myself as a human,” Handles II confirmed.  
“Brilliant! You’ll like this, Yaz - a Chameleon Cyberman at work is really fascinating,” the Doctor beamed.  
“You’ve perked up,” Yaz noted, and she couldn’t help but smile at how enthusiastically excitable the Doctor looked.  
“Well,” the Doctor shrugged, “I love a good plan, me. Always gets me in a good mood, with that classic rush of adrenaline, that little spark of fear. It’s who I am!” 

“Bit of adrenaline, dash of outrage and a hint of panic knitted my brain back together. I know exactly who I am - I’m the Doctor.”

“Well, I’m pleased to see you happy,” Yaz said softly. The Doctor offered her an even brighter smile, before turning back to Handles II.  
“So go on, then,” she ordered, “Show us what you’ve got.”  
“I will figure myself in the shape of one you hold familiar,” Handles II stated.  
“What? Why?” the Doctor asked.  
“Because the human who was upgraded was from this city. It could be recognised,” Handles II replied.  
“Right,” the Doctor said flatly, “Cold logic. How very Cyber of you.”  
Yaz shuddered at the thought. Talking to the Cybermen, with their flat, unelevated voices and blank faces, made her forget what they used to be - the people they used to be. It made her feel dreadfully uncomfortable.  
“I am apart of your psyche,” Handles II stated, “I will therefore calibrate the frame according to your preferences.”  
“Don’t remind me. I don’t like the thought of you rummaging around in my head,” the Doctor muttered darkly, “And there’s no need for that. Just be anyone, anyone at all, a stranger I’ve passed in the street. Doesn’t have to be someone I know.”  
But Handles II was already at work. Yaz stared in pure disbelief and amazement as the metal frame in front of her began to transform. Intricately and beautifully, each shred of metal was transformed into flesh, and the flesh was clothed. Hair, rather bizarrely, began to sprout from the metal top of the head, the handles disappearing, and being replaced with a human scalp. Handles II shrunk, one twitch at a time, until it was just taller than Yaz, and the Doctor. It was the weirdest thing Yaz had even seen. As glossy clouds of brunette hair fell over the now shapely shoulders of Handles II, the Yaz could have sworn she heard the Doctor let out a slight choking noise.  
“Stop,” the Doctor whispered, “Handles - don’t you dare.”  
“What? What’s the matter?” Yaz said urgently. She had never seen the Doctor look so unashamedly afraid, and given recent events, that was saying something. Her face was completely white, drained of all the glow of her previous excitement, and she was trembling like a leaf in the wind. She seemed to be struggling to breathe, her breaths short, fractured and shaking, and Yaz swore she could hear the sound of her twin heartbeats drumming frantically. If Yaz didn’t know any better, she’d say the Doctor was on the verge of a panic attack. Could Time Lords even get panic attacks?  
Yaz didn’t have time to ponder those questions, because before long, there was an attractive woman where Handles II had been standing. She was the sort of woman that, no matter what she was wearing, and in whatever circumstance, would command the attention of every living thing in the room. She was effortlessly beautiful, confident, and vivacious, and if Yaz wasn’t so preoccupied with the Doctor’s odd reaction, she would have felt intimidated by her. But there was an undeniable warmth twinkling away in the depths of her eyes, which took away from her apparently sharp edges, and added a welcoming softness to her whole demeanor. And as for her smile - well, Yaz had only seen a more radiant one before, and that belonged to the Doctor.  
“Hello, sweetie,” the woman said, her eyes on the Doctor.  
The Doctor was looking very much like a deer in the headlights. She was completely glued to the spot, and, had it not been for her shaking, she could have been frozen solid.  
“R - River,” she managed, her voice a quivering whisper.  
River - that name sounded familiar, Yaz thought to herself. It was a very unusual name, and Yaz was certain she had heard it before, and recently, at that. She pressed her lips together in thought, before a feeling of sickness washed over her. As the realisation dawned on her, Yaz felt as though someone had dumped a bucket of cold water over her head, seeping surreptitiously into every stitch of her clothes. Handles II had transformed itself into the Doctor’s dead wife.  
Yaz could not even begin to imagine what emotions were raging under the surface of the Doctor’s being, but she could guess. And if she was right, things were going to get nasty, very quickly. Without thinking, she stepped forward, and looked at this imposter up and down.  
“Handles, change into someone else,” Yaz ordered, “It’s not fair that you -”  
Yaz was cut off when she felt the Doctor roughly shove past her, almost painfully. She was about to protest, but when she caught sight of the Doctor’s face, she physically recoiled. The Doctor wasn’t the Doctor anymore. It was like a shadow had passed over her face, one of rage and terror and earth-shaking power, and it was truly horrifying. Yaz felt her throat constrict at the sight of her - this wonderful, enigmatic, optimistic time traveler, that she had been falling in love with, had twisted into the most terrible thing Yaz had ever seen. It was the face of a monster. The face of a threat, one much bigger than the Cybermen, even bigger than the Daleks - and in that single moment of consternation, Yaz was petrified. The Doctor was extraordinarily terrifying. 

“He’s like fire and ice and rage. He’s like the night and the storm and the heart of the storm. He’s ancient and forever. He burns at the centre of time and he can see the turn of the universe.”

“How dare you,” the Doctor said, her voice disturbingly level and calm, “How dare you take her face and her voice and her words - how dare you!”  
Her last words were expelled in an indescribable boom, one filled with uncontained fury and unfiltered sorrow. Yaz could only watch, as her Doctor, her wonderful Doctor, stared into the fake eyes of the woman she was supposed to love, and shouted her down.  
“I warned you. I told you not to cross me. And now, you dare to stand here before me and imitate her?!” the Doctor yelled, her voice reverberating powerfully in the space, “You dare to look into my hearts, my soul - and use her?! Why?! Why would you do that?!”  
“Well, I required a disguise. I saw how much this form means to you, and thought it fitting to become her. As a form of familiarity,” River replied.  
The Doctor grimaced, swallowing hard. It felt like a punch in the stomach every time she spoke in that voice.  
“‘Familiarity’?” the Doctor scoffed, “Don’t make me laugh. You - you filthy, stinking, despicable thing - you’re not even close to her! As if anything could be!”  
Yaz felt a dull sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach at those words, but it was quickly replaced by fear. It was if the Doctor was sucking the very air from the room with her unspeakable anger, and it was a disturbing reminder that she was an alien - one that had fought with demons and Gods and seen the end of time itself - and an alien that had clearly been hurt so badly that no amount of time could ever close the wounds. She wasn’t this jovial, childlike traveler who liked to help out when she could, she was a wild, uncontained, ferocious force that, when crossed, would destroy every trace of one’s existence. She wasn’t human. Not even close.  
“You change back!” the Doctor bellowed, her voice shaking, “Right now - you change back! If I have to look at her face for a second longer, I swear to every perceivable deity in time and space that I will rip you apart, limb from limb, until I force you to feel the pain you’ve fought so hard to remove!”  
“Our emotional inhibitors are impossible to bypass. You could not -”  
“Oh, don’t even try me. Not now,” the Doctor snarled, her fists clenched, “Because right now it is taking every shred of my self-control not to blow you all off the face of this Earth.”  
“But you would risk the Earth itself.”  
“You really think that would stop me?!” the Doctor shouted, “Oh, you stupid, thick, arrogant creatures - nothing would stop me from utterly destroying you if you don’t do what I say!”  
“I sense rage,” River said softly, her hand reaching up to touch the Doctor’s face, “In your psyche, I detect rage and devastation and hysteria. This form was supposed to provide familiarity, to ease you on the operation.”  
The Doctor snatched River’s hand from her face, gritting her teeth as she did so, and shoved it away from her.  
“Don’t touch me. Not with those fake hands,” the Doctor hissed, “And you’re damn right - I am furious, and devastated, and very close to being hysterical. So I suggest you change back, now, or I swear I will destroy you.”  
Yaz felt a surge of anxiety at those words, because she knew they were serious.  
“Doctor,” Yaz said shakily, realising what was at stake, “You can’t do that - you know we need them - and Handles didn’t know that -”  
“Be quiet!” the Doctor shouted, turning round sharply to snarl at her, “This has nothing to do with you, Yaz!” 

“Nobody human has anything to say to me today!”

Yaz faltered, her mouth falling open in fear and betrayal. The Doctor scared her - she actually scared her, and clearly, she didn’t care, for she had turned back to confront River again.  
“I’ll give you three seconds,” the Doctor seethed, “I’ll give you three seconds to pick someone else - someone I don’t care about - and to change. Do it now.”  
River didn’t protest, and stood passively facing the Doctor as the technology began to work.  
“Three,” the Doctor warned, starting to countdown.  
“Doctor,” Yaz choked, “Give it a chance to -”  
“Two,” the Doctor interrupted, shooting a look of malice at Yaz. If looks could kill, Yaz’s heart would have stopped.  
River, very slowly, began to disintegrate, as Handles II had selected another contender. But it wasn’t fast enough.  
“One,” the Doctor said softly, a terrible smile on her face.


	10. A Second Too Late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor faces the River impostor and acts rashly, upsetting and scaring Yaz. Meanwhile, Ryan and Graham consider Grace's death, and have a small heart-to-heart.   
> *also* slight warning I guess if anyone is sensitive to emotional torture - in a serious way, that is!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit is about to go down. I'm sorry it's a bit of an emotional roller coaster.   
> Also your reactions to the last chapter were a m a z i n g and made me really happy! Thank you all so much :')

Chapter Ten - A Second Too Late: 

Handles II stood, in its Cyber-form, and didn’t have the time to stop the Doctor when she aimed the Sonic at it. Her hands were shaking so badly that Yaz, who was looking on in horror, was surprised she was even aiming it properly. But a second later, there was the sound of an electrical bang, and the ‘C’ panel on the centre of Handles’ chest gave a half-hearted pop, and fell open.   
“Desist,” the Cyber-leader ordered, but the Doctor wasn’t having any of it. Her eyes, which were caught halfway between fury and sorrow, looked plain wrong; to see such ancient and primeval eyes set into a face so youthful jerked Yaz out of her romantic illusion that the Doctor was simply a being filled with the never-ending wonder of the universe. She was archaic and devastatingly time-worn, weary and impatient, and electrifying. But how could Yaz have viewed her as anything else? How could she have gotten it so wrong? The Doctor’s self-proclaimed illusion of a traveler wanting to enact fair play across the universe was so far from the truth of her essence, that Yaz felt physically sick. She felt betrayed. The Doctor had established herself as this kind, charismatic, overly-enthusiastic adventurer, when in reality, in that moment, that couldn’t be further from the truth.   
“What are you?” Yaz whispered to herself, as the Doctor descended on Handles.   
The Doctor, who seemed to be taken-over by her hallowed anger, did not have time to regard Yaz and her shock. Her teeth gritted, the Doctor pulled off the panel, wires and all, and Handles gave off a harrowingly human scream.   
“Can’t destroy your emotional inhibitor, did you say?” the Doctor snarled, “Think again. I’ve fought you before - I know just how to destroy you!”   
Yaz felt bile rise in her throat when the Doctor smashed her hand inside the cavity, with no regard for pain, and pulled out a fistful of electrics and something that looked disturbingly like flesh.   
“I can just pull this out,” the Doctor hissed, brandishing the small chip, “And make you feel! And that will kill you, you despicable creature!”   
The Cyber-leader and other Cyberman could have stopped her, but they didn’t. They needed her more than they needed Handles - but it didn’t stop them voicing protest.   
“Desist,” the Cyber-leader repeated, “We require greater numbers -”   
“Shut up!” the Doctor interrupted, her voice sharp and cold, “I warned you and you didn’t listen! This is not my doing!”  
Handles, with its emotional inhibitor ripped out, let out a tormented, searing cry, that was far closer to a human’s scream than a robotic one. It clutched at its head, moaning in pain, its metal frame trembling.   
“How does it feel?!” the Doctor shouted, throwing the inhibitor to the ground and crushing it with her foot, “Hurts, doesn’t it? Good!”   
“Where - where am I?” Handles cried, the human in its voice breaking through, “Where am I?”   
Yaz was convinced that, had she eaten anything in the last few hours, she would have vomited then and there. The voice was so terrible and heartbreaking and haunting - so raw and vicious and pained - that Yaz was certain she would never rid the ringing from her ears.   
“I - I can’t see,” Handles choked, still clutching its head, “Where’s Beth? Where is she?”   
The Doctor didn’t say anything. She just looked on, with twisted pleasure, as Handles withered before her in pain and despair. There was a terrible, satisfied smile on her face, one so far away from her normal radiance, that it was as if she had completely changed personality.   
“Doctor,” Yaz stuttered, tears in her eyes, “Stop it! You’re hurting him!”   
“It is not a ‘him’, Yaz,” the Doctor growled, her back to her, “It’s a monster.”   
“Can’t you hear that voice?!” Yaz cried, “It’s a man’s voice! A human!”  
“Make it stop!” Handles screamed, “Oh, God, make it stop!”   
“Doctor!” Yaz shouted, “Please - stop it! You have to stop!”

“Doctor! You can stop now!” 

The Doctor didn’t move. She kept her darkened eyes glued on the trembling Cyberman, watching it die with sick triumph.   
Yaz, who was openly crying now, made to move towards Handles in an attempt to comfort it. As it crippled to the floor, Yaz was there to catch it, cradling its head on her lap.  
“Get away from it, Yaz,” the Doctor commanded, her voice flat, “Its head will blow up any second now, if all goes according to plan, and I don’t want you getting hurt.”   
“Oh, so now you care about us humans?!” Yaz cried, trying to settle Handles as it thrashed in pain.   
“That thing is not human,” the Doctor muttered.  
“Are you kidding me?!” Yaz shouted, “Doctor, can’t you hear it? Can’t you hear his voice? There’s a human mind in there, and you’re torturing it!”   
“Help me, oh my God, help me!” Handles screamed in pain, as if on cue.   
The Doctor remained entirely still, her unblinking eyes regarding the scene with cold indifference. Yaz pressed her lips together, trying to stop a sob from escaping her lips.   
“Shush, it’s okay,” she whispered, trying to sooth it, “It’s alright. You’re alright.”  
“Don’t lie to it,” the Doctor snapped harshly.   
“You shut up!” Yaz snarled, making the Doctor step back in surprise, “You’ve done enough damage!”   
The Doctor, if she was taken-aback, didn’t show it. She was too busy making sure the Cyberman died in the most painful way possible.  
“I’m so cold,” Handles choked, “Why is it so cold? Why can’t I see?”   
“Don’t think about that now,” Yaz stuttered, sounding braver than she felt, “What’s your name?”   
“Yaz -”   
“ - I told you to be quiet!” Yaz snapped at the Doctor, “Now, what was your name?”   
“Stefan,” Handles choked, its voice sounding more and more human, “I - I’m an inmate. So am I being tortured? Is this me paying for it?”   
“No, no,” Yaz said softly, “No, nothing like that. It’s okay. You’re alright - I’m here.”   
“It hurts,” Handles moaned.   
“I know,” Yaz whispered, cradling the thrashing robot, “It’s okay.”  
Of course, it wasn’t okay. When Handles let out another heart-wrenching shriek, the Doctor moved forward and tugged Yaz’s arm, pulling her up.   
“Get off me!” Yaz snarled, “Doctor, I swear -”   
She was cut off by a loud bang, just as the Doctor predicted, as Handles’ head blew up with a terrible crack. Yaz winced at the noise, her eyes filled with horror as she looked at the destroyed shell at her feet.   
“I told you,” the Doctor said, her voice hollow, “I don’t want you getting hurt.”   
“Oh, really?!” Yaz cried, roughly pulling her arm away, “But you’re totally fine with innocent men like Stefan getting hurt, is that it?”   
“He wasn’t innocent and he wasn't a man, Yaz. You saw what they made him,” the Doctor replied, her voice surprisingly calm.   
“That wasn’t his fault!” Yaz cried, “He didn’t choose to become that! I know you’re upset, I know that you wanted to punish the Cyberman, but - but you just tortured an innocent man for being in the wrong place at the wrong time!”   
The Doctor blinked at her, her face unreadable.   
“Didn’t you hear his screams?” Yaz continued, “I know you lived for far too long, but please, tell me you aren’t indifferent to sounds like that - how could you not hear him?!”   
“That doesn’t matter,” the Doctor said stiffly, “I needed to destroy it, and that was the easiest way.”  
Yaz stared at her, her eyes red from crying and sparkling with the promise of more tears.   
“Do you even hear yourself?” she choked, “You’re talking as though torturing an innocent man was actually worth killing that thing!”   
“Of course it was worth it,” the Doctor growled, “Did you not see what it changed into? Did you not understand the implications behind that, making me look into her eyes like that?”   
“It didn’t know!” Yaz yelled, “How could it know that River is gone - it doesn’t understand human emotion, for God’s sake! As if it could read your heartbreak! It - it didn’t do it on purpose, don’t you see that, Doctor? It wasn’t personal!”   
The Doctor swallowed, hard, and for one moment, Yaz thought she was going to cry.  
“It made it personal,” the Doctor said quietly, “I’m sorry you had to see that, Yaz, but I don’t regret it. It deserved it.”   
“Oh, and did Stefan deserve it?” Yaz demanded.   
“He was dead before they even put him in that shell,” the Doctor said.   
“Clearly he wasn’t!” Yaz snapped, “I heard his voice!”   
The Doctor shook her head.   
“You wouldn’t understand,” she said, “It’s not simple.”   
Yaz gritted her teeth together, not looking the Doctor in the eye.   
“No,” she said shakily, “The only thing I don’t understand is you, Doctor. What have you changed into?” 

“What about you then, Doctor? What the hell are you changing into?”

The Doctor didn’t reply. She just moved forward, stepping over the mess she had created, and faced up to address the remaining Cybermen.  
“Right, sorry about that little hiccup,” the Doctor said briskly, “But it was necessary. Now, I’m suggesting - if you still want to come along - that you pick a stranger from my head and figure yourself to look like that, okay? Unless you want to end up like your friend there.”   
“Agreed,” the Cyber-leader said. It nodded to the remaining Cyberman, and it stepped forward.   
“Welcome, Handles III,” the Doctor said calmly, “Who are you changing into?” 

 

“How long have they been now?” Ryan said anxiously, leaning against one of pillars in the TARDIS.   
“Over an hour,” Graham said dejectedly, consulting his watch.   
Ryan groaned and threw his head back in impatience.   
“It feels like forever,” he mumbled.   
“Tell me about it,” Graham sighed, “But I’m not sure that us following this soon would be a good idea. We need to try and trust Yaz and the Doc.”  
“Yeah, but how long do we wait before we go after them?” Ryan asked worriedly.   
“Oh, I dunno, son,” Graham said wearily, rubbing his face with his hands, “I wanna trust the Doc and follow her words, but Yaz is involved now, so it’s gotten more complicated.”  
“Yeah. Was - was letting her go a mistake?” Ryan said quietly.   
Graham, who was sat on the floor letting his legs swing over the step, stood up, and clapped Ryan on the shoulder.   
“Nah,” he said, sounding much surer than he felt, “Running after the people you love is never a mistake, no matter what.”   
“Does she love her, then?” Ryan asked, “Has Yaz fallen for the Doctor?”   
Graham sighed heavily, and squeezed Ryan’s shoulder.   
“I don’t think she knows yet, Ryan. But she has serious feelings for her, at any rate,” he replied.   
Ryan nodded slowly, his expression unreadable.   
“So it’s okay that I encouraged Yaz to go? Even though she could be in danger?” he said.   
“Definitely! Look, we wouldn’t have been able to stop her, not really, so knowing you were on her side probably really helped!” Graham said firmly.   
Ryan allowed a small smile to fall over his gloomy expression.   
“I hope you’re right, Gramps,” Ryan said heavily, “I don’t want Yaz on my conscious.”   
Graham puffed out his cheeks, and let out a low whistle.   
“Yeah,” he murmured, “But let’s be honest, here - if anything did happen to Yaz, it would be on the Doc. At least, that’s how she’ll feel.”   
“That would be my fault too, then,” Ryan mumbled, his smile faded.   
Graham shook his head, looking Ryan dead in the eye.  
“By that logic, you silly bugger, then Grace’s death is on me -”   
“ - don’t be stupid!” Ryan protested, interrupting him.   
“Exactly!” Graham exclaimed, “You can’t live your life thinking like that - no matter has happened to Yaz, and I’m not convinced that she’s in any danger, it isn’t on you. Yaz would’ve gone no matter what we said, or did, and there’s nothing we could have done. Putting yourself in the firing line for guilt is a waste of time, because it’s just not true.”   
Ryan blinked at him, and swallowed.   
“That almost sounds rehearsed, Gramps,” he said softly.   
“Well,” Graham said, slapping his hands on his thighs, “It sort of is. I had to give myself a few firm talking tos over the past few months.”   
“You feel guilty for Gran?” Ryan asked.  
Graham sniffed, and rubbed the back of his neck.   
“Now and again, yeah,” he admitted, “I wonder what would have happened if she hadn’t met me - we wouldn’t have been on that train, we wouldn’t have run into the Doc and we wouldn’t have gotten caught up with old Tooth Face. So...yeah, I wonder if she’d still be alive if it wasn’t for me.”   
Ryan shook his head vigorously.   
“No offence, but you’ve never sounded so stupid in your whole life - and that’s saying something, considering you’re ancient -”   
“Oi!” Graham said indignantly, but Ryan ignored him.  
“ - but Gran’s death is not on you,” Ryan said firmly, “Besides, she has the greatest legacy in the universe! You heard what that stone thing said back in Library: Gran is a Defender of the Earth! That’s awesome!”   
Graham pressed his lips together, a lump forming in his throat.   
“And, c’mon, if not for everything, we’d never have met the Doctor. And I dunno about you, but I reckon Gran is looking down on us right now, and - while telling you off for being so stupid - she’s probably really proud. Really, really proud,” Ryan said firmly.   
When Graham didn’t reply, Ryan turned to look at him, and physically recoiled.  
“Oh, Gramps!” he moaned, “Don’t get all soppy and emotional on me, I’ll vom!”   
Graham let out a small chuckle, wiping his damp eyes.   
“Sorry, son,” he said huskily, “I just reckon you’re right, is all. And it’s a bit of a relief to know that you don’t blame me.”   
This time, it was Ryan who clapped Graham on the shoulder.   
“Never,” he said firmly.   
Suddenly, the TARDIS gave an impressive lurch, and the familiar light of the transmat beam flooded into the space.   
“Oh, heads up!” Graham shouted, pulling Ryan out the way as three figures came tumbling into their eyesight. They heard the Doctor grunt in pain - she had fallen on her wrist for the third time in the last hour - and, as the light faded, they saw her, Yaz, and a strange man they’d never seen before splayed out on the ground.   
“Hello!” the Doctor said cheerfully, jumping up, “Ryan, Graham, I’d like you to meet Handles III. It’ll be helping us out!”   
Ryan and Graham, who were stood with their mouths open in comical ‘o’ shapes, didn’t really know how to react. They stared at Handles III, who had taken the shape of a balding gentleman in a smart business suit - someone the Doctor had once passed on the streets of London - and then at Yaz, who was looking dreadfully unhappy.   
“Wait - what?” Graham spluttered, “Doc, what the hell is going on?!”   
“I’ll explain on the way,” she said hurriedly, heading to the TARDIS console, “It’s a long story, but it’s better that you’re all on board before we try and pull this off.”  
“Pull what off? And where are we going?” Ryan demanded, as he, Graham, Yaz and Handles watched on as the Doctor started jabbing buttons and pulling levers.   
“And why is this guy called Handles III?” Graham asked, pointing his thumb over his shoulder at the disguised Cyberman.  
“Yeah, and what happened to the other two?” Ryan piped up.  
The Doctor let out a frustrated sigh.   
“Not really the important question of the hour, you two,” she muttered, “And we’re going to Graham’s. We need a place to lay low, and there’s no way I’m leaving the TARDIS so exposed like this - just in case.”   
“Oh, alright, then,” Graham grumbled, apparently quite put out that she didn’t ask his permission.   
But the Doctor didn’t have time for niceties - her main priority was getting them all somewhere they could talk freely and discuss their next moves.   
Once they materialised in Graham’s lounge, the Doctor took them all into the sitting room, and reeled off everything that had happened with impressive speed and detail. Of course, she left out one gaping hole of information - Handles II’s transformation into River, and her subsequent reaction. Yaz pressed her lips together when she realised the Doctor was simply not going to talk about it, and let out a strangled huff of anger. It went unnoticed - Graham and Ryan were too busy looking, wide-eyed, at Handles III.   
“So you’re saying that this dude is actually a robot?” Ryan said with uncertainty, looking sideways at the awkward, out of place human substitute that was perched next to him on the sofa.   
“Yes - well - cyborg, technically,” the Doctor said breezily. She was stood up as she talked, dancing around on the balls of her feet with nimble sprightliness and fervor, as if she hadn’t just essentially tortured a man not half an hour ago.   
“And these Cybermen things,” Graham said slowly, “They kill people, yeah?”   
“Essentially,” the Doctor nodded.  
Graham frowned to himself, and Ryan edged further away from Handles as far as he could without sitting on top of Graham.   
“And we’re teaming up with them?” Graham said weakly.  
The Doctor sighed.   
“Look, I know it isn’t ideal,” she admitted, “But it’s the only way we’re going to stop this invasion and save the planet. It’s either that, or the entire population is at risk of being upgraded. And since I’ve not fought these so-called Chameleon Cybermen before, I’d rather not have the whole world held as ransom while I figure out a way to stop them. It’s better to have them in our sights, getting their help, and stopping the invasion before it even occurs.”   
“Well,” Graham said briskly, “Can’t argue with that.”  
“Great!” the Doctor said, clapping her hands together, “Let’s get to it then, fam!”


	11. Idylls of Destruction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and Yaz discuss the Doctor's harrowing reaction to the Cyberman (cue some cheesy comfort and a much-needed Thasmin hug), while Graham tries to help Yaz figure out her feelings (because he's everyone's granddad and I love him).  
> "I’m so old now, Yaz, and I’m sick and tired of being in pain." :'(  
> Please let me know what you guys think so far - your feedback is v important to me <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol remember when I said it was only going to be 10 chapters long?? Me too. But I like writing about soft gay space girlfriends too much, I guess.  
> Gonna try and update weekly - I'm back at uni so I have less time that I used to - and this is rapidly becoming quite a long fic with a LOT of plot, so prepare yourself. Sorry.  
> Enjoy x

Chapter Eleven - Idylls of Destruction: 

Graham, being the gentleman that we was, offered Handles III a cup of tea.  
“I do not require sustenance,” Handles said coldly.  
“Oh, right, of course,” Graham said, before bumbling back into the kitchen where he found Yaz setting out the mugs.  
“Um...just the four mugs, yeah Yaz?” he mumbled awkwardly.  
“I’m guessing Handles declined?” she smirked, putting the fifth mug back in the cupboard. She knew her way around their kitchen by now - she often popped round when the Doctor was off galavanting without them, and tended to reminisce with Ryan about bygone school days.  
“Yeah. Apparently he doesn’t eat or drink and the like,” Graham said, scratching the back of his head.  
“Well, the Doctor could’ve told you that,” Yaz said grimly, “She doesn’t see him as human in any sense of the word.”  
Graham swallowed thickly, not knowing how to breach the subject. Since their arrival at the house half an hour ago, he had sensed an uncomfortably unease between Yaz and the Doctor. In fact, the space was so frosty and negative, that even Ryan noticed something was amiss. When he tried to ask Yaz about it, though, she loudly asked if anyone wanted tea, and retreated to the sanctuary of the kitchen.  
“Yaz,” he said carefully, “Is - is everything alright?”  
“It’s just dandy,” she snapped coolly, “Why’d you ask?”  
Graham shifted on the spot, stuffing his hands in his pockets.  
“Well,” he said nervously, “I just sort of noticed that you and the Doc seem a little bit...off.”  
“‘Off’?” Yaz repeated testily.  
“Yeah,” Graham said, “Like, you don’t have to talk about it or nothing, but I just wanted to make sure you were alright, that’s all.”  
“I’m fine,” Yaz said stiffly, slamming the cupboard door shut with a loud snap.  
Graham pressed his lips together, not knowing what to say.  
“Er...no disrespect, Yaz, but I’m sensing -”  
“Leave it, Graham,” Yaz interrupted, “I appreciate you trying to help, but honestly, it’s fine. I’m fine.”  
Graham decided not to test her. He silently went about making the tea, awkwardness hanging in the air, as Yaz leaned against the work surface with a grim expression on her face.  
“Seems we always have heavy chit-chats when we’re making tea, eh?” Graham smiled, trying to lighten the mood.  
“Yeah. I guess,” Yaz said flatly.  
It was a mistake to try and cheer her up, Graham thought. She was clearly stuck in a bad mood that he couldn’t shift - he reckoned that the only one who could would be the Doctor - but he didn’t like seeing her like this. It was so far from her usual happiness and wonder.  
For Yaz, being reminded of her conversation with Graham about her feelings for the Doctor was like a slap in the face. It felt like years ago, when she finally started to realise that her affection for the time traveler was perhaps something much deeper, but now, she wasn’t so sure. There was so little that she really knew about the Doctor, so many layers left to expose. Logically, she had been falling in love with an excitable, caring optimist, not a darkened, tragic antagonist. She knew that everyone has their limits and their demons, but the Doctor had really scared her.  
“Yaz,” the Doctor said, suddenly popping her head around the door, “Please can I have a word?”  
“I’m a bit busy at the moment,” Yaz replied coldly.  
The Doctor narrowed her eyes slightly, looking at Graham for help.  
“Oh! Er - don’t worry, Yaz,” he said, “I can manage.”  
Yaz shot him a look of anger, peeved that he had clearly chosen to side with the Doctor, but Graham figured it was in everyone’s best interest if they just had it out.  
“Fine,” Yaz huffed, pushing roughly past the Doctor and heading into the living room.  
Graham exchanged a nervous glance with the Doctor, as she sighed, and bit her lip. She followed Yaz, and took her hand, to which Yaz begrudgingly complied, and headed towards the TARDIS for some privacy.  
When Ryan saw the Doctor taking Yaz’s hand and lead her to the TARDIS, he waggled his eyebrows suggestively at Graham, who was leaning against the door frame. When Graham looked at him sternly and shook his head, Ryan immediately stood down.  
“What’s going on?” he whispered, standing up.  
“I dunno to be honest with you,” Graham whispered back, as if worried that Handles would eavesdrop, “But it’s better they talk.”  
“True. I’m gonna get frostbite from all this coldness,” Ryan muttered, “But you reckon they’ll...you know…”  
He trailed off, shuffling his feet bashfully on the spot.  
“What?” Graham said, frowning.  
“Well,” Ryan said awkwardly, “Sometimes when, like, couples fight, they make up in an unconventional way.”  
“Yaz and the Doc aren’t a couple quite yet, son,” Graham chuckled.  
“Yeah, but still. I just wonder how much time we should give them before we disturb them, is all,” Ryan replied, much cooler than he felt.  
“What are you getting at, Ryan?” Graham said exasperatedly, “They’re only having a chat.”  
“Yeah, but they might be…” Ryan trailed off again, as Graham looked at him with bewilderment.  
Ryan screwed up his face in embarrassment, before shaking his head.  
“Nope,” he said decidedly, “I’m not talking about that kind of thing with my Granddad, thanks.”  
“What? Talk about what?” Graham pressed, as Ryan returned to the sofa and pretended to ignore him.  
“Nevermind, Gramps,” he sighed.  
As it turned out, both Ryan and Graham were far off the mark. Inside the TARDIS, Yaz and the Doctor were neither talking or ‘making up’. They were just stood looking at each other, the air heavy and cold, not knowing where to start. The Doctor was fiddling with a dial on the console board, before she winced. She had forgotten about her wrist.  
“You really should get that seen to, you know,” Yaz said bluntly.  
The Doctor looked up, as if surprised Yaz had finally said something.  
“Oh,” she said softly, “No, don’t worry. It’ll be fine.”  
“No it won’t,” Yaz said impatiently, moving towards her and taking her hand, “Look - it's only gotten more swollen. And your other hand, too, it’s all messed up and burned.”  
The Doctor hadn’t really noticed the state of her other hand. When she had torn out that Cyber heart, she was only thinking about River, and was controlled by her rage. But she had actually hurt it quite badly - there were electrical burns tattooed over her palm, as well as little, less significant cuts where the sharp circuit ends and wires had punctured her skin.  
“Huh,” the Doctor said, holding up her hand in interest, “Didn’t really notice, now that you mention it.”  
“Didn’t think so,” Yaz said darkly, “Is there a medical bay in this place, or what?”  
“Yaz, there’s really no need -”  
“Yes there is,” Yaz said aggressively, “Don’t be stupid. Now, is there a bloody med bay here or not?”  
The TARDIS had apparently been listening, and, to the Doctor’s annoyance, opened up one of the sliding doors.  
“Thanks a lot,” the Doctor muttered under her breath, and the TARDIS bleeped in amusement by way of a response.  
“Come on,” Yaz ordered, “And if you don’t come, I’ll bloody carry you if I have to. I’ve had a lot of police training, so I know exactly what I’m doing.”  
“No, it’s fine. I’ll come,” the Doctor said weakly. She’d be lying, though, if she said the idea of Yaz picking her up in her arms didn’t make her smile privately. But it wasn’t the time for such feelings - not when Yaz was so clearly furious with her.  
The Doctor followed Yaz obediently as she angrily marched into the medical bay. It was a simple enough room - calling it a medical bay would be generous - but it boasted several complicated looking scanners, several bookcases on various ailments (human and non-human), and countless cupboards packed with supplies. As Yaz went about yanking open doors and slamming them again frustratedly when she couldn’t find what she was looking for, the Doctor nervously perched on the edge of the bed. She swung her legs back and forth distractedly, biting her lip.  
“For goodness sake,” Yaz hissed, slamming the freezer, “Don’t you have any ice packs?”  
“Um,” the Doctor swallowed, “Yeah - but they aren’t, like, actually frozen. Look here.”  
She got up, hesitantly stealing a look at Yaz, and rummaged inside a nearby drawer. She produced an odd looking pack, that was artificially bright blue in colour, and cracked it over her leg like one might snap a glow-stick to release the light. As she did, the pack let out a puff of water vapour, and immediately froze over.  
“Releases liquid nitrogen into a supply of water,” the Doctor explained, but she wasn’t entirely convinced that Yaz even cared, “So it freezes instantly.”  
“You need something to secure it,” Yaz said decidedly.  
“Nah, should be fine. I can just hold it on there,” the Doctor said casually, but Yaz wasn’t having it. She found some heavy duty rubber bands, and, quite harshly, pulled the Doctor’s arm towards her and forcibly strapped the ice pack to her wrist.  
“Ow,” the Doctor hissed, through gritted teeth.  
“Stop complaining,” Yaz said, “And keep that on there for a long as you can, alright?”  
“Yes, Dr. Yaz,” the Doctor said sternly, offering her a mock salute to try and raise a smile. It didn’t work.  
“As for your hand, I don’t think there’s much I can do. Maybe some antiseptic wipes? Do they even work on you?” Yaz said, still not looking her in the eye.  
The Doctor scrunched up her face, and shrugged.  
“Dunno. Probably not. I mean, I already have my advanced defense mechanisms against infection that are secreted naturally from my skin. Don’t really need glorified wet wipes. I mean, who relies on a handful of damp rags to help combat infection?”  
The Doctor could swear she saw the corners of Yaz’s mouth turn up in amusement at her choice of phrase. But, then again, she could have blinked and missed it. The Doctor sighed. She was going to have face up to what happened and talk to Yaz about it - after all, she did ask her to the TARDIS. Swallowing hard, the Doctor sat back down on the edge of the bed.  
“Yaz,” she said quietly, “Could you come and sit with me for a minute?”  
Yaz stayed where she was stood, her arms folded. The Doctor wondered whether it would have been better to try and talk to her when she was emotional, rather than angry, because the look Yaz was giving her was making her feel about 2 ft tall.  
“Listen,” the Doctor said, her voice low, “I - I can tell that you’re upset about what happened -”  
“- I’m not upset about what happened, Doctor,” Yaz interrupted, “I’m upset about how you behaved. What you became. You really scared me.”  
The Doctor pressed her lips together, a lump growing in her throat. She swallowed hard, but it didn’t shift. The thought she had made Yaz scared was almost as bad as having to be reminded, through the transformation, that River was gone.  
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, having trouble getting the words out, “I really didn’t mean to react like that. It was just seeing her there, looking so alive, with that Cyberman using her voice and her words and -”  
The Doctor faltered, her voice wavering with emotion. She took a deep breath, clearly trying to calm herself down so she could try and explain herself. She wished Yaz would say something to give her some help, but Yaz simply looked at her. Under her scrutinising gaze, the Doctor felt as though she was withering under the pressure of having to say the right thing. But that’s the thing - she couldn’t. What she did wasn’t right, so trying to explain her way out of it would be foolish.  
“I’m not going sit here and lie, Yaz. It would be an insult to your intelligence,” the Doctor said quietly, “What happened back there was a big lapse in my judgement, spurred on by the fact that I had to talk to my dead wife, and that made me angry. It made me angry because it was a painful reminder that she’s yet another person, who I loved, that I couldn’t save. It’s a long list, Yaz. And you’ve absolutely no idea how it feels to be smacked round the face with it. That’s why I reacted the way I did - I was angry.”  
“But you tortured him,” Yaz murmured, “Is that what you do when you’re angry, Doctor? You lash out and hurt people? And don’t tell me he couldn’t feel - by that point, you and I both know that Stefan could feel every single thing that was happening to him.”  
The Doctor grimaced at the implication, and clenched her fists. It hurt to do so, but it was the only way she could keep her emotions under control.  
“No, I don’t,” she said, her teeth gritted, “You know me, Yaz. I’m not kind person.”  
“Do I?” Yaz challenged, “I think we established some time ago that I don’t know you, not really. None of us do. And I don’t think you really know yourself, do you?”  
“No, not entirely - but come on, I’ve only just regenerated! I’m still figuring out what sort of Doctor I’m going to be!” the Doctor protested.  
“And is that who you’re going to be, then?” Yaz snapped, “The Doctor who makes people scared - the one who’s name is associated with pain and suffering and mercilessness?” 

“When you began all those years ago, sailing off to see the universe, did you ever think you’d become this? The man who can turn an army around at the mention of his name. Doctor: the word for healer, and wiseman, throughout the universe. But if you carry on the way you are, what might that word come to mean?” 

“No!” the Doctor said, “No, that’s not what I - never, I’ll never become that. I’ll have other choices I can make, Yaz, and they’ll be the right ones, I swear.”  
“Oh, really?” Yaz huffed, “But what happens when you get angry again, huh? Ryan saw your face when you were fighting off that Dalek - you were going to let Aaron die, weren’t you? If it meant that Dalek would die, you would have done it, wouldn’t you? You’re always controlled by your anger, Doctor!”  
“Can you blame me?” the Doctor argued, “Can you? Really? I’ve lived for thousands of years, Yaz, and I’ve learnt the hard way that being governed by love and kindness and mercy do nothing, absolutely nothing! So even if I regret what happened with Stefan, it was the only way that I could stop my pain. Don’t you see? I’m so old now, Yaz, and I’m sick and tired of being in pain.” 

“I’m so old, now. I used to have so much mercy.”

Yaz blinked at her, her face a picture of bewilderment and betrayal.  
“You really would have killed Aaron, wouldn't you?” she said shakily.  
The Doctor sighed, and buried her face in her hands.  
“Oh, I don’t know,” she muttered, her voice muffled by her hands, “I just had to get rid of that Dalek. I had to get rid of that Cyberman. I just had to, alright? I’m sorry that you got caught in the crossfire, I really am, but that’s just the way it is.”  
Yaz looked at her, this complex, time traveling enigma, and felt an unexpected rush of sympathy. It was because of how sad she looked, with her face in her hands, her posture slumped and defeated. She looked so small. So human.  
“Doctor,” Yaz said softly, “I - I just want to understand who you are, that’s all. And I didn’t appreciate you shouting at me like that. I don’t want to upset you, I just want to understand.”  
She heard the Doctor let out a noise that sounded disturbingly like laughter.  
“Good luck with that one, Yaz,” she mumbled, “And I’m sorry I shouted at you back there. I wasn’t really thinking properly.”  
“I know,” Yaz said quietly, finally giving in and sitting next to her, “I think that I’m upset, not because of what you did, but because of who I thought you were. I guess I forget, sometimes, that you’re this alien who has seen more and lost more than I could ever imagine. But you still scared me, Doctor, and what you did was wrong. You know that, right? That it was wrong?”  
“I still have a moral compass, Yaz,” the Doctor muttered, “But it’s gotten a bit crooked over the years.”  
Yaz sighed, and put her hand on the Doctor’s knee. She was quivering, with anger or sadness, Yaz couldn’t quite tell.  
“Well, I can help you fix it. We all can,” she murmured, “Just - just promise me one thing, yeah?”  
“What is it?” the Doctor sniffed, lifting her hands away from her face.  
“Try and do the right thing. Even if it hurts.” 

“Be strong. Even if it breaks your heart.” 

When the Doctor didn’t say anything, Yaz sighed again. It was enough, she thought, for now at least, to know that the Doctor was aware she had messed up. It was a comfort to know that she wasn’t a complete maniac, and that she understood that what she did to Stefan was just plain twisted. It didn’t solve the problem, but it was enough. It was a start.  
“River died because of me, you know,” the Doctor suddenly said, her voice flat and monotonous. Yaz jerked her head up in surprise, and looked at her with confusion.  
“Don’t look at me like that. It’s true,” the Doctor muttered, “She took my place and I couldn’t save her. Like I couldn’t save Rose, or Donna, or Amy or Rory, or Clara, or Bill - oh, the only one who escaped was Martha, and even then, I destroyed half her life. People touch me and they get burnt. That’s why I get angry, Yaz - because I tried love, and look where it got me. Old and broken.”  
Yaz didn’t know what to say to that. In a twisted way, the Doctor was right. She was like an open fire in the cold of nightfall - the heat was addictive, comforting, and warm, but get too close, and you would be badly burned.  
“Have you ever loved?” the Doctor asked, her voice hollow, “I mean, truly loved?”  
Yaz looked up from where she fiddling with her hands, and made direct and unbroken eye contact with the Doctor. Her eyes were glistening with unshed tears, to Yaz’s horror and panic, and for one moment, they seemed so entirely pained and lonely, that Yaz thought her own eyes might well up.  
“Yes,” she whispered, her heart in her mouth, “I’ve loved.”  
“Have you lost it?” the Doctor murmured.  
Yaz swallowed, remembering how she felt when she realised the Doctor wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. She remembered her fear. But then, she remembered how the Doctor’s eyes lit up with the sparks from the fireworks they watched, together, how she had fought so hard to save the so-called witches, how kind she was to Lin when she was attacked by that Dalek. The Doctor had her darkness, it was true, but her light nearly always outweighed it.  
“I think so,” she replied slowly, “But I reckon I’ve found it again, you know. Love has a funny way of crawling back to us, even if it’s hurt us in the past.”  
The Doctor nodded, and sniffed again. She blinked hard, not wanting to appear upset.  
“I’m sorry I scared you, Yaz,” she swallowed, “I’m so sorry.”  
Yaz shook her head, and, without really thinking about the implications, wrapped both her arms around the Doctor and hugged her tightly.  
“I forgive you,” Yaz whispered, “So long as I know that you understand that what happened was wrong, then I forgive you.”  
“It was wrong,” the Doctor agreed, “I knew it was the moment I did it. But I - I miss her, Yaz. And knowing that I’ll never see her again is the worst feeling in the world.”  
Whatever her personal feelings, Yaz didn’t allow jealousy to be her primary emotion.  
“I know you do,” she murmured, “But some things, for whatever reason, come to an end. It doesn’t seem fair - but more often than not, new things come along. And they can be just as wonderful.” 

“Everything ends, and that's always sad. But everything begins again, too, and that's always happy.”

“That’s true,” the Doctor said, “I’ve got you, now. And Graham and Ryan. So that’s something, isn’t it?”  
“Of course it is,” Yaz replied, hugging her harder, “And like I said, we’ll help you fix your moral compass. We’ll keep you to the mark and help you figure out who you’ll be. I promise.”  
The Doctor didn’t reply, but she pulled away and offered Yaz a watery smile. To Yaz’s relief, it seemed that the Doctor wasn’t going to break down - she didn’t know what she’d do it she cried - but that doesn’t mean she didn’t pretend to not notice when the Doctor wiped her eyes on her sleeves.  
“But, you know, Doctor - this doesn’t mean I’m not mad that you yelled at me like that,” Yaz winked, nudging her.  
The Doctor looked momentarily alarmed, but on seeing Yaz’s amusement, found herself smiling.  
“Quite right, too,” she nodded.  
Yaz sighed, happy that they had reconciled, if it was very fragile. She stole a look at the Doctor, who was busy looking for more ice packs, should the need arise, and felt her heart rush with euphoria. The Doctor was sorry - and that was enough.  
But, then again, there was something still nagging in the back to Yaz’s mind. The Doctor so casually had ripped out Handles II’s metal heart, as if it was second nature to her. So, the question remained: had the Doctor killed anyone? Someone who wasn’t her enemy? Someone who wasn’t robotic? Yaz chewed her lip as she contemplated these questions, but, watching her so innocently go about the med bay, Yaz just didn’t have the heart to ask.


	12. Time to Act

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team TARDIS split up to investigate the Cyber threat, Yaz meets an old enemy, and the Doctor considers her wardrobe choice.   
> Bit of a filler chapter with some fluff - and slight warning of homophobia :'(

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooops I haven't had much time to write - and ngl this is a bit of a filler chapter because not much happens. Was super fun to write though! Do let me know what you think :D

Chapter Twelve: Time to Act: 

For Graham and Ryan, it was a relief that Yaz and the Doctor had cleared the air - it meant they could devise a plan of action without any insistent awkwardness. The Doctor was pacing round as they sat and watched her, patiently sipping their tea, and waited for her to say something. Her face was screwed up in concentration, but she hadn’t said anything for several moments.   
“You’ll wear a hole through my carpet, if you keep going on like that,” Graham complained, as the Doctor retraced her steps for the umpteenth time.   
“Sorry, sorry,” she muttered, “I’m just trying to figure out the best thing to do. It’s hard, this.”   
“I’ll say,” Graham muttered, looking thoroughly uncomfortable having to sit next to Handles, even though he was in his human form.   
“Patched things up, then?” Ryan whispered, leaning in to talk in Yaz’s ear.   
“Was it so obvious that something was wrong?” she replied quietly.   
“Yeah, for sure. You were throwing some seriously pissed off looks,” Ryan smirked, “But I’m glad you’re back on track. You’re sweet together.”   
Yaz snorted into her cup of tea, and fell into a coughing fit.   
“Yaz? You alright?” the Doctor said worriedly, ceasing her pacing and hopping over to her.  
“I’m fine,” Yaz gasped, “Just - went down the wrong hole.”   
“Ah. Hate it when that happens. I once choked on roast beef during a banquet with King Henry VIII. Was dead embarrassing,” the Doctor said cheerfully.   
“Ha. Sounds it,” Yaz managed, her throat scratchy, before she started coughing again.   
Ryan clapped her on the back as she coughed, before looking rather bashful.   
“Jeez, sorry,” he muttered, as she recovered, “I just thought -”   
“We’re friends,” Yaz hissed, very aware that the Doctor was in earshot - though, since she had resumed her pacing, she probably wasn’t paying attention.  
“Yeah, but Granddad said that -”   
“Just leave it, Ryan,” Yaz interrupted, “It’s...I haven’t exactly made my feelings known, alright?”   
“Alright,” Ryan said, his voice higher than normal, before he raised his hands up in defeat when Yaz narrowed her eyes at his obvious skepticism.   
“What’s up, Ryan?” the Doctor asked, noting his gesture.  
“Nothing, nothing!” he said hastily, feigning innocence, as Yaz shook her head exasperatedly.  
“Right,” the Doctor said uncertainty, “Anyway, I think I’ve hatched a plan!”  
“Oh yeah?” Graham said, gingerly leaning over Handles to put his mug on the coffee table.   
“Yeah!” the Doctor beamed, “I mean, it’s a bit of a rubbish plan, but it’s better than nothing! Essentially, we can just sort of wander around town, while Handles III and I scan each area, and see if we get signals. Oh, and we can investigate those metal things - wait! Handles - what are they, those weird metal sheets?”   
“I do not know,” Handles responded. It was odd, hearing it with a human voice, but still so plain and monotonous.   
“Oh, brilliant,” the Doctor said flatly, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “Must be the rebels, then. So here’s my plan - Graham and Ryan, you investigate the sheets and find out the positions of all of them across the city.”  
“But that’ll take ages!” Graham moaned.  
“I’m sure there’s an article online about it, or something,” the Doctor said impatiently, “And once you’ve done that, continue to ask around. Our best resource here is the people - find out if they’ve seen anything out of the ordinary.”   
“You mean apart from the great, big metal sheets that just spawned out of thin air?” Graham mumbled.   
“What about you and Yaz?” Ryan asked, ignoring Graham. He couldn’t understand why he would complain - after all, they were researching an alien threat. Not really an average day.   
“We’ll go with Handles,” the Doctor said, “I’ll scan with my Sonic to disguise Handles’ signals. I’m not convinced I can pick up signals, but Handles definitely will. They’re brethren, after all.”  
“Aw, that sounds way more interesting!” Graham protested, “Can’t I go with you instead of Yaz?”   
“No!” Ryan said quickly, before receiving several peculiar looks from the company, “I mean - wouldn’t it be better if Yaz went with the Doctor, Gramps? You know, alone?”   
“Handles will be there,” Graham pointed out, cocking his head in the direction of the awkward cyborg.   
“Yes, but like - wouldn’t it be, you know, nice for them?” Ryan hissed through gritted teeth. Graham could be very dense sometimes. He was frowning from Ryan’s frustrated glare, to Yaz’s embarrassed grimace, and then to the Doctor’s evident bewilderment. Suddenly, it dawned on him.  
“Oh!” he exclaimed, before clearing his throat, “Er - yeah! Quite right son! After all, you and I both know there’s nothing I like more than investigating bits of metal!”   
The Doctor pulled a face at him, looking skeptical.   
“Right,” she said, frowning, “Well, I’m glad we sorted that out, then. If there are any problems, get back to the TARDIS. And once you know everything we need, give Yaz a call, and we’ll regroup. Okay, fam?”   
“Yep!” Graham said eagerly, putting his thumbs up.   
“Sounds simple enough,” Ryan nodded.   
“Affirmative,” Handles III agreed, before standing up with such suddenness, that his knees banged the coffee table with a metal clang and knocked over Graham’s mug. Luckily, it was empty.   
“You’ll have a right laugh with him,” Graham muttered, and Yaz giggled.   
Once everyone was ready and raring to go, the group began to go about their various assignments. Yaz, the Doctor and Handles headed towards the centre of town, whereas Graham and Ryan stayed put and went about researching the sheets. The Doctor was quite right - there was a handy newspaper article online which listed the locations of all the sheets accounted for, so far, and one was fairly close by.   
“That’s just down Crookesmoor Road, over that way,” Graham said, pointing out the window.   
“Student territory, right?” Ryan said.  
“Yep,” Graham replied, “So should be pretty easy to find a passersby or two to ask questions. Then again, it’s only just past midday - doubt many of them will be awake, bloody students.”   
Ryan laughed, and shook his head.  
“I’m technically a student too, you know,” he said reproachfully.   
“Yeah, but not a university one. They’re a bit different,” Graham said grumpily, “Noisy, untidy and nearly always late.”   
Ryan rolled his eyes. Graham really did show his age now and again.  
“You liked that student nurse Gran worked with, don’t you remember? Katie, was it?” Ryan muttered.  
“Not as much as you did,” Graham winked, and Ryan glared at him. She was certainly a very nice girl, but Ryan currently had someone else on his mind - someone he was still plucking up the courage to text.   
The Doctor, Yaz, and Handles, meanwhile, were milling about the city centre. It was proving difficult to locate any of the rebel Cybermen just because of the sheer number of people there were, and the size of the city. They could be hiding anywhere, potentially.  
“This is ridiculous,” the Doctor groaned, as Handles silently scanned everyone who passed by, “Honestly, there’s got to be a way of narrowing the search down, else we’ll be here forever.”  
“Well maybe Graham and Ryan will come back with something useful?” Yaz said encouragingly, “Afterall, if someone did see something weird, we could search around more specific areas.”   
“True,” the Doctor sighed, before looking down at her feet and scuffing her shoes distractedly on the pavement. Yaz looked at her, her eyes softening.  
“You don’t have much of an attention span, do you?” she smiled, teasing her gently.   
“Huh. I suppose not,” the Doctor said thoughtfully, “It’s just - there’s so little time and so much to do! There’s an entire universe to see! People to visit, civilisations to save - I don’t like standing still when there’s so many reasons to run!” 

“I’ve got the whole universe - planets to save, civilisations to rescue, creatures to defeat - and an awful lot of running to do.”

Yaz smiled fondly as the Doctor tipped her head back and looked cheerfully at the sky. The clouds had been clearing in their absence, and it was hard to remember that they were a month in the future. At that thought, Yaz’s smile dropped.  
“Doctor,” she said urgently, “You know we’re a month into the future, yeah?”   
“Yeah?” the Doctor replied airily, waving her Sonic about without much method.   
“Is there a chance that we might, you know, meet ourselves? We all live here, after all, so aren’t we dangerously close to our own timelines?”   
The Doctor frowned, her outstretched arm drooping. She still had the ice pack strapped to it - part of her was too afraid to remove it in case she unleashed Yaz’s wrath.   
“Yeah, I guess,” she muttered, “Didn’t really think. Just - just be weary, yeah? Hopefully we can assume that our future selves are off in space somewhere. But if not, don’t go up and meet yourself. We don’t want any tears in the fabric of time, if I can help it.”   
“Aw, but how fun would that be? Getting to meet yourself?” Yaz winked playfully.   
“I met myself, once. Was weird seeing me outside myself - I was dead skinny. In fact, I met myself twice on the same day. Different versions of me, that is.”   
As the Doctor went about rambling in an attempt to explain the weird events of the thwarted Zygon invasion - tactfully leaving out details of the Time War - Yaz suddenly felt a surge of anxiety saw roughly through her gut. Walking towards them was an attractive, blonde haired young woman who was all too familiar to her.   
Instinctively, Yaz darted behind the Doctor, averting her gaze and willing to every God she could think of that the girl would just go by without noticing her.   
The Doctor, who was surprised to find Yaz hiding over her shoulder, stopped trying to explain the complex negotiations of the Zygon Peace Treaty, and frowned at her in worry.   
“Yaz? Are you alright?” she asked, a little bit too loudly.   
“Shush! I’m not here!” Yaz hissed, grabbing her arm.   
“What?” the Doctor said, poking her side, “Yeah, you are. See - I can feel you, you’re definitely there.”   
“I didn’t mean it literally, Doctor, I was just - stop poking me!” Yaz muttered, batting her away.  
The Doctor just smiled dorkily at her, shrugging her shoulders.   
“Honestly, Yaz, you are a sort,” she smirked. Unbeknownst to her, on saying Yaz’s name a little bit too loudly, the girl who was passing suddenly stopped in her tracks, spinning on her expensive heels to narrow her eyes at the pair. The Doctor heard Yaz let out a tiny groan.  
“Yasmin Khan? Is that you?” the girl said sternly. The Doctor took a disliking to her immediately - this girl, who looked almost obnoxiously comfortable in her own skin, was looking at Yaz like she had a bad smell under her nose.   
“Yeah. Hi, Issy,” Yaz said weakly, stepping in front on the Doctor with immense reluctance.   
The Doctor felt her ears prick up. Yaz, who was looking a lot smaller than usual, swallowed nervously, as she gestured between the girl and the Doctor.   
“Doctor, this is Issy,” she said testily, “Issy, this is the Doctor. We went to school together.”   
Issy looked at the Doctor with insulting scorn, biting back the urge to comment on her outfit.  
“Doctor?” she scoffed, “Doctor what?”   
“You’d be surprised how many times I get asked that,” the Doctor said casually, trying to keep her cool. On hearing her name, and noting Yaz’s strange reaction, she knew exactly who this girl was - she was Issy Flint, the one who had mercilessly bullied Yaz when they were in school together. The Doctor remembered Yaz mentioning her name during the Witch Trials, and she never forgot a name. More often, people forgot hers.   
“You didn’t answer my question,” Issy sneered.   
“Am I required to?” the Doctor said, her voice laced with impatient danger.   
Issy looked fairly taken-aback at the Doctor’s lack of cooperation, before she recovered and shrugged nonchalantly.  
“No. Don’t really care,” she said lightly.  
“Any reason you’ve come over, then, Issy?” Yaz asked, cutting in before the Doctor could say anything more, “You didn’t like to associate with me in school, as I so fondly remember.”   
Issy laughed, but it was a nasty, condescending laugh that had no implication of warmth.   
“No particular reason, I grant you,” she said aloofly, “Just wondered what you were doing going about the city centre - I heard you were a cop. Shouldn’t you be, you know, doing your job?”   
“I’ve had no reason to arrest anyone today,” Yaz said coldly, “At least, not yet.”   
“You should arrest your friend here - for crimes against fashion,” Issy replied rudely, sneering unpleasantly at the Doctor.   
The Doctor was totally unfazed.   
“I’m sure that sounded much cleverer in your head, Issy,” the Doctor said sweetly, and Yaz bit back a laugh.   
Issy glowered at the pair of them sourly, before she sneered again.   
“I’m smart enough to know that wearing that clown outfit in public is practically social suicide,” she spat, and Yaz felt herself flinch with anger on behalf of the Doctor.   
“Well, you’re right there - fashion is important. And brains aren’t everything,” the Doctor said lightly, “In fact in your case, they’re nothing at all.”  
There was a tense and icy silence, before Yaz spluttered with laughter and Issy shot the Doctor a look of pure malice, her face flaming.   
“Christ alive, you really don’t know how to take a joke, do you?” Issy snarled.   
“Coming over to purely insult my friend isn’t really a good joke, Issy,” Yaz argued, glaring at her, “We’re not school kids anymore.”  
Issy held up her hands in mock apology, rolling her eyes.   
“Sorry,” she said, unflinchingly sarcastically, “I forgot how sensitive you were - didn’t you lock yourself in the girl’s bathroom all afternoon and cry? After I got all the lads in our class to empty their water bottles over your head during Assembly?”  
Yaz winced at the memory, gritting her teeth.   
“Ah, that’s the look I remember,” Issy said nastily, “Sad and small - poor little Billy No Mates.”  
Yaz felt the Doctor physically bristle next to her.   
“Keep on talking, Issy, I dare you,” she said dangerously, taking a step in front of Yaz.   
Issy didn’t back down, and squared up to her.   
“Oh yeah? And what happens if I do?” she snarled.   
“Well,” the Doctor said coolly, “Statistically, one day you’ll say something of intelligence.”  
Now it was Issy’s turn turn to grit her teeth.   
“Walk away, Issy,” Yaz said, trying to remain mature, “Like I said, we’re not kids anymore. A lot has changed, and to be honest with you, I’ve moved on - would be great if you could, too.”  
“Moved on, have you?” Issy spat, “Is that why you cowered behind your weird friend when you saw me coming your way, huh?”   
“Oh wow, Issy!” the Doctor exclaimed unexpectedly, “A marginally intelligent thought crossed your mind! Blimey, must’ve been a long and lonely journey.”  
“Doctor,” Yaz said sternly, but she’d be lying if listening to the Doctor sarcastically quip at her childhood bully didn’t amuse her.   
Issy glared between the pair of them, watching how defensive the Doctor was of Yaz, and how fondly Yaz was gazing at the Doctor. An unkind smile fell over her sneering face.   
“Oh, don’t tell me,” she smirked, “Are you a dyke now, Yaz?   
Yaz felt her face grow hot, and she looked anywhere but the Doctor.   
“You totally are, aren’t you?” Issy said nastily, “Oh, this is gold. Wait till I tell Danny Biswas that the girl he fancied is a raging todger dodger!”   
The Doctor, as usual, wasn’t entirely sure what was going on. But she didn’t like Issy’s tone, and she certainly didn’t like the expression Yaz was holding.   
“Tell me, do you enjoy acting like a child or is today a special occasion?” the Doctor said dangerously, putting herself squarely between Yaz and Issy.   
Issy merely looked at her, and scoffed.   
“Getting your girlfriend to fight your battles for you, now, Yaz?” she said, “God, you haven’t changed. Always hiding behind someone, never standing up for yourself.”   
Yaz didn’t say anything. She just squirmed uncomfortably on the spot, wishing the ground would do her a favour and swallow her up.   
“Though, I gotta say,” Issy continued to sneer condescendingly, “I’m not sure about your taste. This one looks like she just wandered out of a circus.”  
“You know,” the Doctor snarled, “You are a classic example of the inverse ratio between the size of the mouth and the size of the brain.”  
“And how long did you spend thinking that one up?” Issy snapped.   
“About four regenerations, now that you mention it,” the Doctor said thoughtfully.  
Issy looked at her in confusion.   
“Huh? What the hell does that mean?” she demanded.   
“Oh, it’s not important,” the Doctor said breezily, “But you know, while I’d love to spend my time arguing with you, it’s no fun when my opponent is a glob of snot.”  
Issy blinked at her in total shook, and Yaz felt herself grinning again.  
“Did - did you just liken me to snot?” Issy hissed, before turning to Yaz, “Did your freaky girlfriend really just liken me to snot?!”  
“I did,” the Doctor nodded triumphantly, “With a little help from the words of my friend Kierkegaard. But I don’t expect you’d know of him - from what you’ve said so far, you don’t appear all that bright.”  
Issy looked at the Doctor incredulously, her nostrils flaring.   
“Resorting to petty insults, now?” she spat.   
“Well, that’s what you’ve been doing all this time,” the Doctor said calmly, “Besides, I figured I’d keep things easy for you - you know, using small, simple words so your brain can keep up.”  
Issy didn’t really know how to respond. Her eyes darted from Yaz to the Doctor, and you could almost see the dusty cogs of her mind grinding in a desperate attempt for a witty reply. Yaz, meanwhile, couldn’t help but bubble with pride as the Doctor slowly unpicked the facade of superiority that Issy had spent a lifetime building up.   
“You know what, forget it,” Issy snapped, “I don’t want to waste my afternoon arguing with a pair of dykes.”  
“And we don’t want to waste our time on a spoilt, unkind, immature brat like you,” the Doctor said coolly, “So we’re in agreement - back off.”   
Issy felt at a total loss - she wanted to say more, to have the last word, but even she sensed that it was no use to try and challenge the Doctor.   
“Whatever,” Issy muttered, “And Yaz, I’d try and hold onto this one - after all, it’s a miracle that someone looked at you twice.”   
Yaz had to grab the Doctor’s hand as she physically twiched, worried that she was about to go for her. Not that it wouldn’t have been satisfying, Yaz knew the Doctor wouldn’t resort to physical violence (at least, that’s what the Doctor had promised), which meant she would’ve done something with the Sonic - and that would have been a lot worse.   
“Well, at least I have someone to care about me,” Yaz said fiercely, gripping the Doctor’s hand tightly, “Last I heard, you’d been through six boyfriends, and not one of them could put up with you. Now, as the Doctor said, back off and leave me alone. And if you do grow up any time soon, feel free to have a catch up. Would be nice to reminisce.”   
With that, Yaz flounced away, dragging the Doctor with her, and leaving Issy in a cloud of fury and frustration. Handles - who had been no use at all - followed obediently, as they crossed further into the main square.   
“Wow, that felt so good!” Yaz exclaimed, still squeezing the Doctor’s hand, “Standing up to that hard-faced cow for the first time in my life!”  
“Yaz -” the Doctor tried to cut in, but Yaz was too busy relishing in her moment of glory.  
“Oh, did you see her face? It was a picture!” Yaz cried happily.   
“Yes, it was very -”   
“And you were amazing, Doctor!” Yaz beamed, “I’ve never seen her so tongue-tied before!”   
“No problem, but Yaz -”   
“Wait till I tell Ryan!” Yaz interrupted, “He’ll find it absolutely hilarious, and - wait, Doctor? What’s the matter?”   
Yaz had finally noticed the look of pain cast over the Doctor’s face, and felt a surge of worry race across her heart.   
“My hand,” the Doctor managed, her teeth gritted, “Would you please let go of it?”   
Yaz, in horror, looked at where their hands were joined, and realised she had been yanking the Doctor across the city by her sprained wrist.   
“Oh my God!” Yaz exclaimed, mortified, “Oh - Doctor, I’m so sorry! You - you should’ve said!”  
“I tried,” the Doctor replied bashfully, massaging her wrist, “But I wanted you to have your moment of triumph.”   
Yaz looked at her blankly, before letting out a long sigh and shaking her head.   
“I think the real moment of triumph happened when you called her a glob of snot, Doctor,” Yaz said exasperatedly.   
“Oh, yes,” the Doctor beamed, her previous pain apparently entirely forgotten, “I was dead proud of that one.”  
Yaz laughed, and rubbed her arm affectionately.   
“As you should be,” she winked, “But fat lot of good Handles was, right?”  
“True,” the Doctor said, raising her eyebrows at the out of place cyborg, “But I don’t think it would be very good at quipping, you know. Probably just would’ve wanted to upgrade her.”   
“I would say that’s an improvement, but even I wouldn’t wish that on Issy,” Yaz replied evenly.  
The Doctor smiled at her with pride.  
“Right answer,” she grinned, before she fiddled with the hem of her coat, “Say Yaz, can I ask you something?”  
Yaz felt her heart skip a beat. She was worried the Doctor was going to ask why Issy thought they were girlfriends.   
“Yeah, of course,” she said softly.   
The Doctor took a deep breath, and swallowed hard.  
“Do - do you think my outfit is weird?” she mumbled, “I mean I don’t usually care about this sort of thing and to be honest I really like the coat, I think it’s really cool - like I love the way it swishes and stuff - and I know it’s a bit unusual but the rainbow stripes on my shirt make me really happy and -”   
The Doctor was cut off when Yaz put a finger over her lips. The Doctor went slightly cross-eyed, for she looking at the tip of Yaz’s finger in shock.  
“Doctor, don’t worry,” Yaz said quietly, “You’re outfit looks lovely. Besides, what does it matter what anyone else thinks? You like it, and that’s all that counts.”   
Slowly, the Doctor took Yaz’s hand and lowered it from her lips. She smiled radiantly at her, before nodding her head with certainty.   
“You’re right,” she said confidently, “That is all the matters! And anyway, I know I have great fashion sense - I’ve had 2000 years to perfect it, after all!”   
Yaz laughed, pleased she had cheered her up.   
“And you should know, Doctor - I really love your outfit,” she said kindly.   
“Yeah? Why’s that?” the Doctor beamed.   
Yaz averted her eyes and glued them to the floor.   
“I love it because it reminds me of you,” she said softly.   
Luckily for the Doctor, she didn’t have to think of a response - it would have been hard, considering her mind had gone blank - because Yaz’s phone started ringing. Apologetically, Yaz put her hand in her pocket and answered it.   
“Yaz?” came Ryan’s voice, “You better come quickly. I think we’ve found something.”


End file.
